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A Comedy in Tfireeiftfifc .-. ..-. ,-.:
*J o " > * * a J e
'
LOVE'S
OLD SWEET SONG
SAMUEL FRENCH
NEW YORK, N. Y. LOS ANGELES, CALIF.
25 WEST 45th STREET 811 WEST 7th STREET
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd., LONDON
SAMUEL FRENCH (Canada) Ltd., TORONTO
WGHTS PRESERVED
:: :": \:
l^ flJ4(V*i>y William Saroyan
Copyright, 1940, by Harcourt, Brace and
/V* Company, Inc.
In the volume "Three Plays" by
William Saroyan
Copyright, 1941 (Acting Edition), by
Samuel French
CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are
hereby warned that "LOVE'S OLD SWEET
SONG/* being fully protected under the copy-
right lam of the United States of America,
the British Empire, including the Dominion of
Canada, and all other countries of the Copyright
Union, is subject to a royalty. All rights, includ-
ing professional, amateur, motion pictures, rec-
itation, public reading, radio broadcasting,
and the rights of translation into foreign
languages are strictly reserved. In its pres-
ent form the play is dedicated to the
reading public only. Amateurs may pro-
duce this play upon payment of a roy-
alty of $25.00 for each performance,
payable one week before the play
is to be given to Samuel French
at 25 West tfth Street, New
York, N. Y., or at 811 West jth
Street, Los Angeles, Calif. Ap-
plications for production of
the play in stock should be
addressed to Samuel French.
For all other rights apply
to Pat Duggan, Matson
& Duggan, 630 Fifth
Avenue, New York City
MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
BY THE VAIL-BALLOU PRESS, INC., BINGHAMTON, N. Y.
To Richard Watts, Jr.
OF ALL THE THINGS I LOVE
I love to see the sun come smiling to the world;
I love to hear the wind go singing through a field;
I love to hear a love-bird singing in a tree,
And I love to see a lovely face light up with love for me.
CHORUS
Of all the things I love,
1 love the most
Sleeping in the shade of love.
Sleeping in the shade of love,
I love the most, my love.
Of all the things I love to taste,
Sweetest is the kiss of love.
Dreaming in the shade of love,
The kiss of love
I love the most, my love.
My love, of all the lovely things,
Loveliest of all is you,
Dreaming in the shade of love.
Sleeping in the shade of love, my love,
I love the most, my love.
I love to breathe the scent of earth and new-mown hay;
I love to taste the peach and berry ripe in May;
I love to feel the spray as I walk beside the sea,
And I love to see a lovely face light up with love for me.
vii
THE YEARS
The years, the years, they come and go,
And go and go, and oh, my heart!
The years have gone with my heart.
The days, the days still come and go,
And I still breathe,
But oh, my heart!
The years have gone with my heart
The years, the days, the nights
Still come and go,
And I still dream,
But oh, my heart is gone,
My heart is gone 'with the years.
The hours, the hours, the long, dreaming hours
Still come and go,
And I still dream.
But the light is gone from my dream,
And the love is gone from my heart!
The two foregoing songs have been published by Chappell
Music by Paul Bowles, words by William Saroyan.
viii
PREFACE
"Love's Old Sweet Song/' in addition to being a theatri-
cal entertainment, intended primarily to delight the eye and
ear and the heart and mind of the beholder, is literally a
song. The singers of the song are the few people in the play
selected from the many in the world, but any who see the
play are likely to be the singers of the song also, inasmuch as
the song is living itself. It is an old song, but the time is our
time, the people are our people, and the environment is our
environment. All the sources of the song are contemporary,
but still the song is the oldest song in the world, as love
is the most basic emotion of life. There could be no mor-
tality without love, and no dimension to living without
song. Love is an inevitable part of the bargain of the living
in the inexplicable exchange of nothingness for mortality,
and poetry is man's defense against being swindled in that
bargain. Any man who is an alien to poetry, no matter who
he is, is swindled in that bargain. Instinct demands love of
all who live, and good living demands imagination and
faith.
The line of the play is melodic, the same as the line of a
song. It is a simple play, as the song is the simplest of mu-
sic's various forms. While its theme is love, in a number
of variations, the play is without love-sickness, no doubt
ix
simply because I do not feel things sickly. I find the tender-
est or strongest emotions of a man inextricable from every-
thing else that is a man's: understanding, a sense of propor-
tion, love of comedy, and intelligence. The arrival of a fresh
emotion, or a fresh dimension of an old emotion, or a mag-
nification of a constant emotion, does not, as I remember
things, nullify all other emotions or qualities a man possesses.
Characters in drama have been generally unrounded-out,
most likely for the convenience of the dramatist, and for
the security of the meaning of the play. It is difficult to
have rounded-out characters in a play and to have a satis-
fying play at the same time, but at this stage of the game
that appears to be something very essential to try for. The
character of man is neither steady nor predictable. Even
one whose life is limited by willfully accepted rules, such as
a saint, is not free of variation in impulse, thought, or act.
Man's greatness and man's insignificance are both the conse-
quence of his being inevitably free. Nothing can limit man.
And yet, with all his freedom, religion in men (and I mean
primarily the inherent sense of Tightness, grace, beauty, and
so on) compels, usually, a noble exercise of freedom, so that
murder, for instance, is always rarer than delight. The people
in "Love's Old Sweet Song" are free people. The freedom
they enjoy, and the freedom which carries them sometimes to
disaster, is a freedom which art, with all its limits, has never
been able to shift from the living to the dead. We can be
grateful for this failure. Freedom is not essential: it is in-
evitable. It cannot be taken from the living without literally
taking life from them. For this reason any idea, however
noble or base, which depends for its strength or validity on
x
the regimenting of life is an unsound idea, temporary, and
scheduled for ultimate failure. As the limits in living are
good taste, the limits in art cannot be anything more severe.
The play is simultaneously naive and sophisticated. I be-
lieve the living are simultaneously naive and sophisticated,
because no matter how nai've a man may be there is some-
where in him great sophistication, and no matter how so-
phisticated he may be there is great naivet6 in him. In the
nature of things I cannot understand anyone in the world
as well or as fully as I understand myself, and I know this
simultaneous reality of sophistication and naivete exists in
myself. It is true and inevitable. It is impossible for me not
to be sophisticated. It is also impossible for me not to be
naive. I cannot abandon one for the other merely to simplify
things. I must therefore recognize the validity of both, and,
in my own work at least, I must assume that naivete and
sophistication are simultaneous in everybody. Neither are
cultivated in myself. Neither are unnatural. I must assume,
therefore, that this condition is general.
The variations of love are great, but they are not really
variations. Love is the one thing that is constant, even when
the variation of it appears to be hate. In reality there is no
such thing as hate. Hate is love kicked in the pants. It is
love with a half-nelson on itself. The deepest and most gen-
eral love is love of God, the defining of which I leave to
you, as you please. Love of God includes regard of self. All
the kinds of love, in fact, are regard of self. As long as a man
is alive, he is alive for himself. It is foolish to be buffaloed by
embarrassment into not accepting this truth. In the nature
of things a man cannot cease to be himself, and therefore
xi
whatever he does, good or bad, lie does for himself. Doing
good things is the ultimate selfishness, and as love is the
o o
best of the better things, it is the ultimate selfishness. I can
see no reason why it shouldn't be. No morality is worth any-
thing that doesn't understand that all behavior is selfish.
Selfishness is correct by all standards.
The necessity to defend my work again and again is em-
barrassing to me, and yet I have no alternative. To ignore
criticism, as many writers do, I regard as an evasion of my
responsibility to my work. In fairness to my critics, I ac-
knowledge the partial truth and validity of every charge
brought against my work, against myself personally, and
against my methods of making my work public. What is
lacking in their criticism is the fullness and humanity of
understanding which operates in myself, ia my work, and in
my regard for others. The essence of my work is honor,
honesty, intelligence, grace, good humor, naturalness, and
spontaneity, and these things do not appear to be nicely
balanced in my critics. Consequently, it is difficult for them
to make sense in themselves of that which is complicated
and unusual for them. What should delight them because
of its honesty, shocks them. What should enlarge them be-
cause of its understanding, drives them more completely
behind the fort of their own limitations.
I will take up each of the commonest charges the critics
have made against myself and my work. In a sense the
charge of exhibitionism is a valid one. No creative activity
could possibly deny the validity of exhibitionism, and it is a
mistake to regard exhibitionism as something improper. The
implication that it is something improper, and something
xii
characteristic only of my work, is that which I object to.
The creative impulse itself is exhibitionistic. The fulfilling
of the impulse is even more so. And the placing of that
which has been created before others is still more so. If you
want no exhibitionism (if that is what you choose to call it),
you want no creation. After the creation of my work ? it is
true that I have been more energetic than many others in
my attack upon the problem of making my work as public as
possible. This has been necessary because my work has been
unfamiliar, and because making it public has been a problem.
If I did not believe in my work I would not bring it about
in the first place. Since I do believe in it, I must do what-
ever I arn able to do to make it known to as many people as
possible. It is probably rny enjoyment of living and working,
however, which is offensive to so many, and which they
put down as exhibitionism. As I understand things, accept-
ance of our life is the first law of living, and enjoyment of
it (and I know all about its unenjoyables) is the first neces-
sity of artful and gracious living.
To the charge of mindlessness, it would be unkind of me
to ask where is the mindfulness in the work of other men,
not only of our time but of other times? Where is the mind-
fulness of Shakespeare, if need be? By mindlessness I believe
the critics mean absence of specific instruction to society or
the state on how to behave, and presence of immediate liv-
ing, In the play form, among other things, there must be
play. It is impossible to exclude thought or belief or faith
from a play, but these things are in a play after living is in
it, and they are in a play as tone, not as things by them-
selves. Since the theater is not an adult continuation school,
xiii
those who come to the theater must be entertained before
they are instructed. The difference between my thinking, it
would appear, and the thinking of others is that mine oper-
ates from beginnings long ago and not from headlines and
news in today's paper. What appears to the glib and super-
ficial mind or sensibility as mindlessness is, in reality, a depth
and fullness so far removed from cheap thinking that it be-
wilders. The critic with political bias, for instance, cannot
accept my thought simply because it puts him out of work.
No ambition for the living, for the individual, for the
weak and stupid and the strong and wise, is loftier than
mine. No affection for the ugly and base and the beautiful
and noble in man is more generous than mine. No scorn for
the cruel, the miserable, the wretched, the cowardly, the
insane wherever they may occur, in the good or in the bad
is greater than my scorn. No faith in grace is steadier or
more encouraging than mine. Therefore, I must take it, my
work is mindless. The truth is, I am not unbalanced.
It is charged, further, that my work is formless. The form
of my work is simply unfamiliar. It has very definite form.
The compulsion within myself for wholeness, for balance,
and for grace is so great that form is the first demand I make
of my work and the first demand my work makes of me. It
is probable that the critics cannot see the form for the full-
ness. If there were nothing in the form they would see the
form, but since the form is full, they cannot see it.
It is charged further that I am crazy, an ego-maniac, a
charlatan, that I will write anything to celebrate my name,
that I am an enemy of the people, especially the working-
xiv
class, that my intention is merely to make money and rise
in the world, that I have bad taste or no taste at all, and a
good many other things. These charges come from men too
dull, too vulgar and too inferior for me to bother with.
xv
NOTE
"Love's Old Sweet Song/' like "The Time of Your Life/'
was produced by Eddie Bowling in conjunction with The
Theatre Guild, and directed by Mr. Dowling and myself.
It was first performed in Princeton, New Jersey, at the Mc-
Carter Theatre, Saturday evening, April 6, 1940. This was
followed by two weeks at the Forrest Theatre in Philadel-
phia, beginning Monday, April 8. The play next went to
Ford's Theatre in Baltimore for one week. It opened in
New York at The Plymouth Theatre on West 45th Street,
Thursday evening, May 2, and closed Saturday evening,
June 8th, after a run of 44 New York performances.
This is the cast which opened the play in New York:
Ann Hamilton JESSIE ROYCE LANDIS
Georgie Americanos PETER FERNANDEZ
Barnaby Gaul WALTER HUSTON
Tom Fiora JAMES s. ELLIOTT
Demetrios ANGI o. POULOS
Cabot Yearling ARTHUR HUNNICUTT
Leona Yearling DORO MERANDE
Newton Yearling EUGENE FITTS
Velma Yearling BARBARA HASTINGS
Selma Yearling ARDELE HASTINGS
Al Yearling THOMAS JORDAN
xvii
Henry Yearling
Jesse Yearling
Lucy Yearling
Ella Yearling
Susan Yearling
Maud Yearling
Lemmie Yearling
Mae Yearling
Harry Yearling
Wilbur Yearling
Richard Oliver
Elsa Wax
David F. Windmore
Daniel Hough
Mr. Smith
Mr. Harris
Pass Le Noir, Sheriff
Stylianos Americanos
Pericles Americanos
ERIC ROBERTS
JACKIE AYERS
PATSY C/SHEA
MAE GRIMES
PATRICIA ROE
CAROL ESA
BOB WHITE
ELEANOR DREXLER
MICHAEL ARTIST
GERALD MATTHEWS
LLOYD GOUGH
BEATRICE NEWPORT
ALAN HEWITT
JOHN A. REGAN
NICK DENNIS
GEORGE TRAVELL
HOWARD FREEMAN
ALAN REED
JOHN ECONOMIES
The out-of-town Sheriff was Pass Le Noir, whose perform-
ance I admired so much I have given his name to the part.
I wish to thank every member of the cast, including those
who, for one reason or another, did not appear in the play
when it reached New York, especially Jules Leni who was
not old enough, according to law, to stay in the play as
Wilbur Yearling. Mr. Leni I regard as one of the finest
actors of our time. It would be a serious oversight for me
not to acknowledge the great contribution of Eric Roberts
to the play, as Henry Yearling. He himself created the de-
xviii
lightful mockery of Fascism during the Time Magazine epi-
sode, which was to me one of the pleasantest moments of
the play.
Every player, in fact, brought something personal and
special to his role, and many, not excluding children, helped
direct the play. An usher in Baltimore also helped direct the
play. Mr. Dowling brought to the play from his family the
idea of the Happy Birthday song during Barnaby Gaul's
pitch for the Yearling family. Mr. Langner of The Theatre
Guild is responsible for several of the most important scenes
in the play, which I wrote upon his suggestion. Mr. Arthur
Hunnicutfs presence impelled me to expand the part of
Cabot Yearling, which Mr. Hunnicutt performed magnifi-
cently. His discovery was, I believe, one of the most fortu-
nate events, both for this play and for the theater in general.
Mr. Huston, it goes without saying, brought to his part a
fine quality which could not have come from any other
American player. Jessie Royce Landis, with perhaps the
most difficult role in the play and wholly without direction,
made Ann Hamilton both real and delightful. Peter Fer-
nandez, as the Messenger, was perfect. Angi O, Poulos, as
an American citizen, was beyond direction, and consequently
impossible to improve. Alan Hewitt, as the man from Time,
was exactly what I had in mind. John Economides, the fa-
mous Greek actor, as Pericles Americanos, not only trans-
lated my lines into Greek, but brought to his part the comic
solemnity and gentle anger which the role called for. And
finally, Alan Reed, as the simple wrestler, accomplished the
difficult task of being, every night, both a skillful acrobat and
a sensitive actor.
xix
The settings by Watson Barratt could not have been
closer to what I wanted.
The music and two songs by Paul Bowles contributed
so much to the play, but were so integrated in the material,
that I ain afraid critics and theatergoers alike were not suf-
ficiently aware of their importance. I must say, however,
that I am aware.
Armina Marshall, as Production Assistant, did most of
the hard work.
To these, and to all others, including the Musicians and
Stage Hands, my sincere thanks.
XX
THE PEOPLE
ANN HAMILTON, 44, a beautiful unmarried small-town
woman
GEORGIE AMERICANOS, a Postal Telegraph messenger
BARNABY GAUL, 51, a pitchman
TOM FIORA, another messenger
DEMETRIOS AMERICANOS, an American citizen
CABOT YEARLING, a family man
LEONA YEARLING, 44, hlS Wife
NEWTON YEARLING, 19, their half-wit son
VELMA YEARLING
twins
SELMA YEARLING
AL YEARLING
ELLA YEARLING
HENRY YEARLING
JESSE YEARLING
SUSAN YEARLING
MAUD YEARLING
LEMMIE YEARLING
MAE YEARLING
HARRY YEARLING
WILBUR YEARLING
LUCY YEARLING
RICHARD OLIVER, an unpublished writer
j- their children
xx
ELSA WAX, a photographer for Life Magazine
DAVID F. WINDMORE, a college man
DANIEL HOUGH, a farmer
MR. SMITH, a representative of the West Coast Novelty
Amusement Company
MR. HARRIS, his associate
PASS LE NOIR, a sheriff
STYLIANOS AMERICANOS, 41, Georgie's father ? a -wrestler
PERICLES AMERICANOS, ji, Stylianos' father
THE PLACE
Outside Ann Hamilton's House at 333 Orchard Avenue,
Bakersfield, California.
The parlor of the Americanos home.
THE TIME
Late morning and afternoon of Friday, September 15,
1939.
NOTE. In the New York production this play was played
in two acts. Acts II and III were continuous.
XXll
ACT ONE
ACT ONE
SCENE: An old-fashioned house with a front porch, at 333
Orchard Avenue in Bakers-field, California. There
is a house at right 'with porch and steps; an en-
trance down right; left of the house is a stone
wall to down left. There is a gate with trellis in
this wall. A road passes from down right through
the gate and off up left. Another road passes from
left to right at the back of the house. A tree up
center at back. A large front yard., with rose bushes
in bloom near the house. A cement statue of a
roaring lion down left on the lawn. About ten
o'clock in the morning.
A homeless family goes by in the street: MAN ?
WOMAN, THREE CHILDREN.
ANN HAMILTON, a beautiful and rather elegant
woman in her early forties, comes out of the house,
looks around, walks about in the yard, to the gate,
smells and cuts several roses, singing "the years, the
years, they come and go,' 9 and so on; goes up onto
the porch, sits down in the rocking-chair with a
love-story magazine, waiting for nothing, least of all
a telegram.
3
GEORGIE AMERICANOS, Greek-American Postal Tele-
graph messenger, arrives up left, skidding, on a
bicycle -with very broad handle bars. He settles his
bicycle gently on ground, steps across it neatly,
studies the number of the house carefully, takes off
his cap, takes out telegram, shakes his head, smiles,
and moves up to the front porch steps.
GEORGIE
(Loudly, as if he were half a block away)
You Miss Ann Hamilton?
ANN
(Sweetly)
I am.
GEORGIE
(Delighted)
Well, a fellow by the name of Barnaby Gaul is coming out
from Boston to visit you. He sent you this telegram. Know
him?
Barnaby Gaul?
(Pause trying to remember)
May I read the telegram?
GEORGIE
(Left of porch swiftly)
It's collect. A dollar and eighty cents. It's a long night-
letter. Lots of people can't pay for collect telegrams now-
adays, but they always want to know what* s in them just
4
the same, so I memorize everything and let them know.
Free. That's my little gift to society. People are poor. A
dollar and eighty cents is a lot of money. Know him?
ANN
(Sincerely)
I'm afraid there must be some mistake.
GEORGIE
(Positively)
Oh, no, there isn't.
ANN
I don't know anybody in Boston. Are you sure the tele-
gram's for me?
GEORGIE
(Sits on steps)
If you're Ann Hamilton, it's for you. Otherwise it ain't.
Mistakes sometimes happen.
ANN
(Eagerly)
What's that name again?
GEORGIE
(Very clearly. Rising)
Barnaby Gaul.
(Spelling)
B-a-r-n-a-b-y, Barnaby. G-a-u-1, Gaul. We get a lot of dif-
ferent kinds of telegrams, but this is the best I've ever seen.
This telegram is about love.
ANN
Love?
5
GEORGIE
That's right. L-O-V-E, love. Til recite the message to you.
It's against the rules of the company, but to hell with the
company. My sympathies are with the poor, not the rich.
To tell you the truth, Fm a radical.
ANN
(Amazed)
Are you?
GEORGIE
(Proudly)
Of course I'm an American, too. My father's Greek. He
used to be a wrestler. My father's father used to be a
tobacco-grower in Smyrna, in the old country. We read
philosophy.
(Dramatically)
My name's Georgie Americanos.
ANN
(Formally)
How do you do?
GEORGIE
(Shyly)
How do you do?
ANN
Won't you sit down, Georgie?
GEORGIE
That's all right. You lived in this house twenty-seven
years?
6
ANN
I've lived in this house all my life. My goodness, I'm
forty-four years old.
GEORGIE
You're the lady, all right. My father's been reading Greek
philosophy to me for three years. Consequently, Fm in-
telligent. If he comes out here from Boston, like he says
he's going to, will you let me come out and look at him?
ANN
If somebody's coming here.
GEORGIE
He'll be here.
ANN
All right, Georgie, you can come out. What does the tele-
gram say?
GEORGIE
Can I bring my father? He likes to meet people whoVe
traveled.
ANN
(Sweetly and patiently)
All right, Georgie, your father, too.
GEORGIE
(Explaining)
The telegram goes like this.
(Reciting the telegram)
Boston, Massachusetts. September 7, 1939.
7
ANN
September 7? Today's September 15.
GEORGIE
Well, to tell you the truth, I lost the telegram. It was in
my pocket.
(Indicates pocket)
I don't know how it got there. I always put telegrams in my
hat.
ANN
(Rises comes down steps)
Good gracious, Georgie, tell me whaf s in the telegram,
even if it is eight days old.
GEORGIE
Has anybody walked by in front of this house whistling
Love's Old Sweet Song lately?
ANN
(Emphatically, but sweetly]
No, Georgie. Please recite the telegram.
(Sits on steps)
GEORGIE
(He puts his hand to his forehead and closes his
eyes, concentrating)
Well, let me think a minute. Get everything straight.
(Pause, -while he makes a face. He begins to smile y
remembering the message)
He sure is a nut. O.K. Here it is.
(A special quality of voice)
8
"If you remember me, I am the young man with the red
hair who walked in front of your house twenty-seven years
ago whistling Love's Old Sweet Song."
(And to her)
Do you remember him?
ANN
No, I don't. Please recite the whole telegram.
GEORGIE
How could you forget a guy like that? He goes on to say:
"You were sixteen years old at the time. You (Points to
ANN) had half a dozen roses in your hand. Four red and
two white. I hardly noticed you when I went by, and then
I came back and said hello, and you said hello. I said what
is your name and you said Ann Hamilton. You didn't ask
niy name. We talked a minute or so and that was all. I
made a note of the number of your house and the name
of the street and went away. I am now fifty-one years old
and want you to know I love you."
(Aside to her)
Now, do you remember him?
A3SOST
No, Georgie. Is there anything more?
GEORGIE
Plenty! There's plenty more. He says: "I am coming back
to you, even if you're married and have five children/'
(Aside to her)
How about it? Are you? Have you?
9
ANN
I'm not married.
GEORGIE
Aren't you married?
(Pause)
ANN
No. Please finish the telegram, Georgie.
GEORGIE
Well, he says: "'Get rid of everybody. Love is everything.
I know, now. Nothing else matters. I will walk in front of
your house again very soon and I will be whistling the
same old sweet song of love."
(Aside to her)
They don't usually send telegrams this way, even when
they're collect. They usually try to say everything in ten
words.
(Continuing to recite the telegram)
He says: "If you remember me, speak to me. If you do not
speak, I shall know you have forgotten. Please remember
and please speak to me.
(Dramatically)
I love you.
(Pause. Officially)
Barnaby Gaul." That's the whole message, word for word.
A dollar and eighty cents. Know him?
ANN
No, I don't.
10
GEORGIE
(Severely and a little irritated}
Are you Ann Hamilton?
ANN
My name is Ann Hamilton.
GEORGIE
Well, he knows you. He sent you this message all the way
from Boston. You're going to speak to him, aren't you?
ANN
(A little angry with her life, pouting)
No, I'm not.
GEORGIE
Doesn't love mean anything to you?
ANN
No, it doesn't. Besides, the man's crazy.
GEORGIE
Why? Just because he hasn't forgotten?
ANN
A girl of sixteen is liable to be polite and say a few words
to any man who speaks to her.
GEORGIE
This is different. You must have been very pretty at the
time. You're not bad now. Don't you remember holding
half a dozen roses in your hand? Four red and two white?
11
ANN
Fve cut roses from these bushes hundreds of times. I don't
remember any particular time,
GEORGIE
Don't you remember a guy with red hair, whistling?
ANN
No, I don't. Fm not sixteen, Georgie. Fm forty-four.
GEORGIE
Well, all I know is you mean everything in the world to
this nut. This Barnaby Gaul. And by all rights he ought
to mean everything in the world to you, too.
ANN
Well, he doesn't mean anything to me.
GEORGIE
I wouldn't be so sure about that. He may come by here
and sweep you right off your feet.
ANN
No, he won't.
GEORGIE
Why not?
ANN
Fm perfectly happy.
GEORGIE
(Sits on edge of steps)
Oh, no, you're not. You can't fool me. You may be satis-
fied but you're not happy. You've got to be a little unhappy
12
to be perfectly happy. Satisfied^ one thing, and happy's
another.
(Pause]
Socrates.
(PEOPLE go by from down right to off up left)
Poor people. Homeless. No place to go.
ANN
( Pause sweetly )
What's he say in that telegram?
GEORGIE
That's more like it. Listen carefully.
(Reciting. Grandly)
"If you remember me, I am the young man with the red
hair who walked in front of your house "
(GAUL whistles off up left. GEORGIE listens eagerly.
ANN rises helplessly to her feet)
Listen.
(At the gate excited)
It's him. Barnaby Gaul. He's come back to you, just like
he said he would. This is the greatest love story that's
ever taken place in the streets of Bakersfield, California.
Speak to him.
ANN
I don't remember anybody like that.
GEORGIE
(Shouting)
Speak to him. The man's come all the way from Boston
to see you again. He's moved everything back twenty-
seven years where it belongs. Say a kind word.
ANN
I don't know what to say.
GEORGIE
Say anything. Hell understand.
ANN
(At the gate excited)
Here he comes. Don't go away, Georgie.
GEORGIE
(Crosses down left to lion)
Go away?
(Whispering)
I wouldn't miss this for anything in the world.
(Pause, looking down the street)
(The PERSON [GAITL] 'who appears up left is a hand-
some man of fifty whose years are instantly irrele-
vant. He is, in fact, youth constant and unending.
His hair is reddish, if not exactly red. His face is
still the face of a young man. His figure is still that.
His clothes are the casual clothes of a young man
who has better things to think about. He is wear-
ing an old straw hat, and he is carrying a straw
suitcase. He is walking jauntily, and he is whistling.
He notices ANN, stops whistling and stands)
ANN
(Breathlessly)
Good morning.
GAUL
(Stopping center, setting down his suitcase, remov-
ing his hat, bowing gallantly)
How do you do?
(ANN and GAUL stare at one another a moment
while GEORGIE looks from one face to the other.
GAUL is delighted with ANN, and ANN is rather
pleased with GAUL, although still a little bewildered
and frightened. The whole thing is love at first
sight, especially for ANN)
GEORGIE
(Whispering)
Wow!
GAUL
(Gesturing to GEORGIE)
Your son?
ANN
(Out of the world)
Yes.
(Hastily)
No.
GAUL
A handsome boy.
ANN
He's Greek.
GAUL
A classic and noble people. You have others?
ANN
No. He's a messenger. He brought your telegram.
GAUL
Telegram?
GEORGIE
Sure. From Boston.
GAUL
Boston?
(ANN turns and rushes into the house)
GEORGIE
Weren't you just whistling Love's Old Sweet Song?
GAUL
I was whistling. I don't know what it was. It's a beautiful
morning. The least a man can do is whistle.
GEORGIE
Didn't you walk down this street twenty-seven yeare ago?
GAUL
My boy 7 I've never been in this town before.
GEORGIE
(Burning up)
Ah, for the love of Mike.
(ANN comes out of the house, holding half a dozen
roses. Four red and two white. GEORGIE studies her,
worrying, but fascinated)
16
GAUL
(With abstract admiration for ANN, for roses, for
the morning, for the world, and for all good things
in general]
Roses! I have never seen roses more beautiful to behold.
Nor have I seen anyone hold roses more beautifully. Nor
have I seen them held any way at all by anyone more
beautiful.
GEORGIE
(Delighted)
It's him, all right.
GAUL
Him? Who?
GEORGIE
Who? You. Don't you recognize her?
ANN
(Beautifully, sadly, tragically)
Four red and two white.
GEORGIE
She remembers you. Don't you remember her?
(GAUL stares at ANN)
All right.
(He tears open the telegram)
Let me read the telegram for you, too.
GAUL
Telegram? What telegram?
1 7
GEORGIE
What telegram! The collect telegram from Boston.
(Reading)
"Boston, Massachusetts. September 7, 1939."
(GAUL takes the telegram and reads it silently, glanc-
ing at ANN every once in a while)
GAUL
"I love you. Barnaby Gaul/'
GEORGIE
Now don't try to tell me you're not Barnaby Gaul.
GAUL
(Acting)
Is this Bakersfield, California?
ANN
Yes, it is.
GAUL
Is this Orchard Avenue?
ANN
Yes. 333.
GAUL
How can I ever ask you to forgive me?
GEORGIE
You are Barnaby Gaul, aren't you?
GAUL
Words fail me.
ANN
Oh, that's all right.
GEORGIE
(Growing suspicious)
Were you ever in Bakersfield before?
GAUX,
Please try to understand.
GEORGIE
(Like Hawkshaw, the detective)
Were you in Boston eight days ago?
GAUL
Forgive me. Both of you. I thought I was in Fresno. Let's
start all over again. From the beginning.
(He takes his suitcase and hurries away off up left.
After a moment he begins to whistle "Love's Old
Sweet Song 9 ')
GEORGTE
Do you remember anybody like that?
(Crosses to left of porch)
ANN
I don't know how I ever could have forgotten,
GEORGIE
Are you sure this is the nut?
ANN
As sure as I'm breathing.
1 9
GEORGIE
Well, get ready, then. Whoever he is, here he comes again,
and this time he means it. This time he knows where he
is and who he is, and who you are. Don't forget to speak
to him or else hell just walk away and maybe not send a
telegram again for another twenty-seven years.
(GAUL appears again, whistling "Love's Old Sweet
Song")
ANN
Good morning.
(GAUL stops, turns, looks at ANN, sets down his suit-
case, hurries to ANN and kisses her. She drops the
roses one by one)
GAUL
(Heroically)
Ann. I knew you'd remember. I knew you'd never forget.
(Kisses her gallantly)
ANN
I thought I had forgotten, Barnaby. I even believed there
was no one in the world like you.
GAUL
(Proudly)
There is, however. There is.
(Points dramatically at himself)
ANN
And then when I saw you, I knew how foolish I had been
to think you would never come back. I couldn't help it ?
20
Barnaby. The years moved away, slowly and then swiftly,
and always I stayed here alone, living in this house, rock-
ing back and forth in this chair on this porch. The roses
bloomed and faded.
GAUL
(Dynamically)
The poor roses.
ANN
(Almost dreaming)
The song died.
GAUL
(Comes down steps)
The poor song.
ANN
The children I wanted were never born.
GAUL
(Sadly)
The poor children.
(Tosses coin to GEORGIE)
ANN
(Coming down steps)
Barnaby, why have you stayed away so long?
GAUL
(Inventing)
Aim, you may remember there were wars.
21
ANN
(Sits on steps)
Oh!
GAUL
And you may remember, Ann, there were great troubles.
There were panics in which a man rushed with the crowd
to no place. No place at all.
(Tragically)
And I, with the million others, ran, and ran, forgetting love,
forgetting everything but the need for escape. Protection
from police and disease. Hide-aways in fifty-cent rooms in
large cities, in small villages. There were famines, Ann.
ANN
Oh, Barnaby, you were hungry?
GAUL
Hungry? Days, weeks, months, years of hunger. Hunger
for bread, not love. Hunger for ease and comfort, not glory.
(He embraces her -while GEORGIE -watches)
There were disasters at sea. Shipwreck and storm. Floods
and hurricanes, and a man off-balance falling in the street.
Fear and shouting. No songs, Ann. There were distances,
and barking dogs. Mountains to cross, and rivers and prai-
ries and deserts. And wherever a man stood, his heart was
far away, and wherever he went, his heart was not there.
There was cold and few coats. There was ice and no fire.
There was fury and stupor in the heart. As you dreamed
here through the years, there was pain and forsakenness.
There were accidents, Ann, with a man's body embar-
22
rassed by helpless and ugly posture, the arm twisted, the
leg out of joint, and the heart in fever of disgust, raging
against the mice.
GEORGIE
What mice?
GAUL
Mice? Go away, boy. And the foolish people asking, Are
you hurt? Hurt? My God, I have been attacked by an army
of termites as big as Japanese, and marching in the same
military formation. There was snow and quiet, with the
eyes of men staring out from secrecy and crime. There
was hate, with the rain drenching the streets and the wind
roaring around the buildings.
ANN
Oh, Barnaby.
GAUL
(Heroically)
There were many things, Ann, to keep me away from
you, as you dreamed here through the years. I remember
the thirst I knew in Kansas City, and the bar-flies driving
me mad. There were small things, Ann, insects and little
words. Frowns and sneers. And big things. The stairway
of the hotel on fire, and a man in his bare feet. There
were moments, repeated a million times, that were use-
less to the years. And years that were meaningless to any
moment. But I knew always I knew, Ann that you
would not forget. I've come a long way, through many
things, and still your face is bright. Your eyes still young.
Your hand warm. Your lips soft and full. The errors that
have been, I dismiss. Here, in your presence, I deny all
I have known but good, since you are still by sweetness
molded sweet. I here cease movement and begin dream,
because here dream is real. Ann, IVe traveled across half
the world.
(Solemnly)
I'm tired, Ann. Now I must lie down in the sweet shade
of love, and dream into the years of youth. The years of
our youth, Ann. The years we have lost and shall now re-
gain in the embrace of love.
(BARNABY embraces ANN. She goes into the house.
BARNABY turns and thwWS GEORGIE C. Coin)
GAUL
My luggage, boy.
(GEORGIE picks up the suitcase and puts it on the
porch. GAUL goes inside of house. GEORGIE very much
impressed; starts to go. Stopped by TOM FIORA, an-
other Postal Messenger, arrives and settles his bike
next to GEORGIE'S. TOM enters through gate and
crosses down to GEORGIE at steps of porch)
TOM
(Brightly)
Telegram for you, Georgie.
GEORGIE
Telegram for me?
TOM
Yes, you. Here. Read it.
24
GEORGIE
(Takes telegram, opens it, and reads it silently.
Then reads it aloud]
"I told you I'd get even with you some day, so how do
you like that? The telegram to Miss Ann Hamilton is not
real. Ha, ha, ha. Your pal, Tom Fiora." Ha ha ha? What's
the big idea?
TOM
I told you Fd get even on you.
GEORGIE
You put that telegram in my coat pocket?
TOM
That's right. That'll teach you to play tricks on me.
GEORGIE
You wrote that telegram?
TOM
I didn't write it. My brother Mike did.
GEORGIE
(Burning up)
That's what I call a low-down dirty trick, and a guy in
the house there getting ready to sleep in the sweet shade
of love.
TOM
Serves you right. I told you Fd get even.
GEORGIE
Well, what about that lady? What about that wonderful
lady who told him I was her son?
2 5
TOM
Tell her the truth.
GEORGIE
The truth?
(Pause)
Ah, Tom, I never did like Italians. Greeks never did like
Italians. How did your brother Mike ever happen to write
a telegram like that?
TOM
Mike gets all kinds of funny ideas. He cut this lady's lawn
one day. She told him the story of her life. He knew she
was lonely.
GEORGIE
Well, who the hell is this guy, then? He's not just any-
body. Giving me a Canadian dime. Tom, Fm going to
tell the Manager.
TOM
Go ahead. He'll fire you, too. Then he'll come out here
and make a personal call and explain everything.
GEORGIE
No, he can't do that.
(He looks at door of house)
It's too late to do that.
TOM
(Lifting his bicycle)
Come on. Let's go back to work.
26
GEORGIE
O.K., you rat.
(He looks at door again)
If that guy breaks her heart I'm going to tell my father
to get a half-nelson on him and teach him some manners.
(Loudly)
Good-by, Miss Hamilton.
ANN'S VOICE
Good-by, Georgie.
GEORGIE
Is he sleeping?
ANN'S VOICE
No, he wants to shave first.
GEORGIE
(Gets his bicycle and starts away. Disgusted)
Aaah.
(Loudly)
Fll be back to see how you're getting along first chance I get.
ANN'S VOICE
All right, Georgie. And thanks ever so much.
GEORGIE
Any time at all.
(ANN enters and sits in chair on the porch. GEORGIE
gives TOM a long dirty look, -while TOM smiles
beautifully. They get onto their bicycles simul-
taneously and ride away off up left)
(GAUL, -with lather on his face, comes out on the
27
porch, sits beside ANN. Sings to her "Of All the
Things 1 Love":)
GAUL
(Singing)
I love to see the sun come smiling to the world;
I love to hear the wind go singing through a field;
I love to hear a love-bird singing in a tree,
And I love to see a lovely face light up with love for me.
CHORUS
Of all the things I love,
I love the most
Sleeping in the shade of love.
Sleeping in the shade of love,
I love the most, my love.
Of all the things I love to taste,
Sweetest is the kiss of love.
Dreaming in the shade of love,
The kiss of love
I love the most, my love.
My love, of all the lovely things,
Loveliest of all is you,
Dreaming in the shade of love.
Sleeping in the shade of love, my love,
I love the most, my love.
I love to breathe the scent of earth and new-mown hay;
I love to taste the peach and berry ripe in May;
28
I love to feel the spray as I walk beside the sea.
And I love to see a lovely face light up with love for me.
CHORUS
(At the finish of this song, DEMETRIOS, a small
middle-aged Greek with a big Hack mustache,
pushes a lawn-mower into the yard from up left;
suddenly realizes a man is on the porch; breaks
down with grief, since he is in love with ANN. Be-
gins to cut the lawn, dances to the music, suddenly
notices the roaring lion, roars back at it, goes on
dancing, always noticing the lion out of the corner
of his eye)
GAUL
(Seeing DEMETRIOS)
Hey. You. That grass does not need cutting.
DEMETRIOS
I am American citizen.
GAUL
Even so, the grass does not need cutting. Have you got
your first or second papers?
DEMETRIOS
Second papers next month.
GAUL
All right, come back and cut the grass next month.
DEMETRIOS
Is this official?
GAUL
Official. Now get your lawn-mower and get the hell out
of here.
(DEMETRIOS hurries off up left with his lawn-mower,
broken hearted. GAUL and ANN go into house. There
is a moment of peaceful silence. Then CABOT YEAR-
LING and his family arrive, one by one. CABOT
thoughtfully smells a rose and surveys the terrain.
CABOT'S family consists of LEONA, his wife; NEWTON,
nineteen; AL, seventeen; the TWINS, SELMA and
VELMA, sixteen; ELLA, thirteen; HENRY, twelve; JESSE,
eleven; SUSAN, ten; MAUDE, nine; LEMMIE, eight;
MAE, seven; HARRY, six; WILBUR, five; and LUCY,
four. LEONA is pregnant. The family is accompanied
by RICHARD OLIVER, a newspaper man who is col-
lecting material for a book. He is an oldish, partially
bald young man who is very troubled. Also ELSA
WAX, a large, plain young woman wearing spectacles,
-who is a photographer for Life Magazine. The two
are not on speaking terms because, although they
dislike one another very much, they are in love)
CABOT
Leonie, here we rest.
(CHILDREN sit on lawn and steps)
OLIVER
But, Mr. Yearling, this is somebody's front yard.
CABOT
Don't aim to do no harm. Just aim to rest a spell. Leonie's
going to have a baby soon, you know.
30
(Spreads his old blanket on the lawn and lies
down)
OLIVER
Another baby? When?
CABOT
Leonie, when?
LEONA
Two or three months, most likely. He'll be my fifteenth.
ELSA
You're aiming to stay here till the little fellow comes, of
course?
CABOT
Don't know why not.
(Rising, crosses to AL, one of the bigger boys who
is reading)
Here, you. What are you always reading books for? Shake-
speare and things like that?
(ELSA takes a picture)
LEONA
When do you folks aim to leave us?
ELSA
I can't answer for Mr. Richard Oliver here. He's aiming
to write a novel about you folks, I believe. He'll be with
you for the next two or three years, most likely. I won't
be half that long.
LEONA
I don't reckon we could undertake to feed another mouth,
3 1
what with the children growing up and needing things all
the time, and another coming.
ELSA
Mr. Oliver won't be no trouble, hardly.
CABOT
(Lying down on lawn)
Well, it ain't so much the extra mouth to feed. It's always
having somebody around asking questions.
(Knocks notebook out of OLIVER'S hand)
It's more like never being able to lie down and sleep in
the afternoon, without somebody waking up a body to ask
if we know how to read or not, or if we want better work-
ing conditions.
(ELSA takes a picture of CABOT. He knocks camera
out of her hand)
Or somebody else taking pictures of us all the time. We
ain't publicity mad. We know we ain't society folk. If it's
pictures you want, there's a world full of people who're
always fussing with soap and water, keeping themselves
clean and nice-looking all the time.
OLIVER
I have no intention of getting in the way.
(Turning)
Miss Wax! If you please. The pitiable plight of these unfor-
tunate people is not the concern of one man alone, but of
the whole nation.
CABOT
Unfortunate? Fve got my driver's license.
32
OLIVER
Something's got to be done for them.
ELSA
All right, do something. What can you do?
CABOT
We ain't asking much.
LEONA
That's so. We don't want nothing from nobody hardly.
Food. A place to sleep. A roof over our heads. Clothes. A
little land to walk around in. Cows. Chickens. A radio. A
car. Something like that. We aim to shift for ourselves,
the same as ever.
CABOT
A handful of vines to pick grapes off of to eat. A small
melon patch. Good climate. Working conditions? We
aim to hire our help fair and square.
ELSA
I don't hardly guess this family's typical.
LEONA
(With dignity)
Oklahomans. That's what we are. Don't belong to no re-
ligious sex. Mind our own business.
CABOT
Live and let live. When do you folks aim to let us rest?
LEONA
We like to be neighborly and all, but this following us
around and spying on us don't seem just right.
33
ELSA
I won't be much longer. We're going to call these pictures
"Life Goes to a Garden Party."
OLIVER
You're making fun of these people.
ELSA
Don't be silly. I'm not making fun of anybody, except
you. Because you think these people are pathetic. Well,
they're not. You are. Look at these people. Nothing can
stop them. They've got the stubbornness and fertility of
weeds. And they're not common, either. I'm a photogra-
pher and I've learned to see into things. Your vision is
so bad, the only thing you ever see is the surface, and I
don't think you see that very clearly. For all we know
one of these kids is a genius.
(Looking at AL)
This fellow Zoofes like a genius: he reads Shakespeare.
(Looking at NEWTON)
On the other hand they may all be idiots. But how do we
know the world isn't supposed to be inhabited by idiots,
instead of silly people who want to get everything or-
ganized like you?
OLIVER
You're a Fascist.
CABOT
Talk! Talk! Talk! That's all I hear, ever since you intel-
lectuals started following us around.
34
OLIVER
Fm trying to help you people. With my novel, I hope to
improve migratory agricultural labor conditions.
CABOT
Conditions are all right. Fm a little tired, that's all. I
brought this family all the way from Muskogee, Oklahoma,
in seven weeks, in a broken-down old Ford that cost sixty-
seven dollars and fifty cents.
OLIVER
It's not a question of a broken-down old Ford
(HENRY hits OLIVER with a stick. OLIVER falls, and
three boys leap on him)
CABOT
No kicking, now! Fair and square! No gouging! No biting!
(BARNABY GAUL opens an upstairs window)
GAUL
(Sees YEARLING family all over the yard)
What's going on around here? Ann. Are these people rela-
tives of yours?
ANN
(Inside house)
Fve never seen them before.
GAUL
(Coming down stairs in house and out on porch)
Don't worry.
(Enters)
Fll get them out of here in two minutes.
35
HENRY
(Seeing GAUL coming down steps and rushing to at-
tack him)
Oh, yeah!
(CHILDREN pounce on GAUL)
GAUL
Ann, come out here. For the love of God, save me.
(HENRY grabs him by one leg. JESSE falls on him.
He turns several times, trying to free himself falls
to his knees)
ANN
(More beautiful and voluptuous than ever in fact,
radiant comes out, dazed and bewildered, with a
heart overflowing with love)
Barnaby! What's the matter?
CABOT
Here, you kids. Henry. Jesse. Get off that boy. Get off
him before I come over there and break your arms.
(HENRY and JESSE release their holds on GAUL. But
he twists himself heroically free and rises to his
feet)
GAUL
What 7 re all you people doing in this front yard?
CABOT
We aim to rest a while and catch our breath.
(HENRY threatens GAUL'S leg)
36
GAUL
You aim to rest a while and catch your breath?
(To HENRY)
Get away from me, you bashi-bazouk!
(To CABOT)
Call off your children.
CABOT
Henry. Leave the boy alone.
GAUL
(Pause)
My God! You're not all one family, are you?
CABOT
(Indicating OLIVER and ELSA)
All excepting him and her. He's a writer, and she's a pho-
tographer.
GAUL
All the others yours?
CABOT
More than half of them are. Every one of them's my
wife's, though.
GAUL
Well, it's been pleasant chatting with you. Now clear out
of here. Go on up the street somewhere a couple of blocks.
(He starts to enter house)
CABOT
We ain't aiming to go no further just now.
37
GAUL
(Coming back)
When are you aiming to?
CABOT
After Leonie has the baby.
GAUL
After Leona has the baby. When will that be?
CABOT
That won't be for a couple of months.
GAUL
A couple of months? My God!
(Looks around horrified, then hurries into house;
returns with his hat)
ANN
(Terrified)
Barnaby!
GAUL
(On porch)
I can't stand noise and confusion and crowds of people
in my private life.
ANN
Barnaby! You're not going?
GAUL
I'm not staying,
ANN
I've already waited for you twenty-seven years. You just
arrived.
38
GAUL
Ann, you've got the most beautiful spirit in the world,
but I can't hang around a house that's surrounded by
Indians.
LEONA
Oklahomans.
GAUL
Same thing.
(To ANN)
I can tell you now, and truthfully, that I shall never for-
get you.
ANN
You're angry and excited, Baraaby. You don't know what
you're saying.
(GAUL starts to go. ANN blocks his way. She rushes
up on porch, trying desperately to hold GAUL with a
wild gesture her arms outstretched toward him.
Frantically)
Barnaby! Don't go! Wait for me! Let me get my hat and
coat. I'm coming with you. Barnaby!
(She runs after him out up left)
HENRY
(Running up to door of house opening door and
turning to the OTHERS)
The whole house is ours.
(He rushes into the house and is soon followed by
all the OTHERS, including OLIVER and ELSA)
39
OLIVER
But, Mr. Yearling, you'll get in trouble. This is still pri-
vate property. Of course after the revolution
CABOT
Ah, to hell with the revolution.
(They enter house)
AL
(Alone, on the steps]
What am I doing here? I don't belong to this man and
this woman. I'll go away. I'll be truly alone, as every
man must be. Good-by, my father. Good-by, my mother.
Good-by, my sisters and my brothers.
(As AL is walking away up left, JESSE, in one of
ANN'S hats, comes out and sees his brother going
away)
JESSE
Al!
(AL stops, turns)
Where you going?
AL
Nowhere. Jesse, go on back!
JESSE
No. I know you're going away. I'm going with you. I don't
want to be alone.
AL
(Coming into scene tenderly)
Jesse, go on back! You can't go with me.
4
JESSE
(Grabs his brother around the waist, scbbing)
No. I wont go back. I am going with you.
AL
Jesse! Listen! I can't take care of you. I don't even know
if Fll be able to take care of myself. Now go on back.
JESSE
Al, please take me with you. Please.
AL
I can't, Jesse. Now go on back!
JESSE
(Shouting after him)
You're a hell of a brother!
(AL turns and runs off up left. JESSE runs after him
a short distance, and then comes back slowly not
crying and sits down in front of the cement lion.
Suddenly he stretches out on the lawn, face down-
ward. ELSA comes out of the house. OLIVER'S hat and
suitcase follow. Then OLIVER, who stumbles out
and falls on the ground. CABOT and NEWTON come
onto the porch)
CABOT
You stay away from us with your God-damn propaganda.
We voted for Roosevelt.
(CABOT and NEWTON go back into the house)
4 1
OLIVER
I don't know how I'm going to be able to write this and
give it social significance.
(Gets to his feet)
ELSA
Don't be foolish. You just write what you wanted to write
in the first place, and forget all these little complications.
OLIVER
(Sits on steps)
I'm disappointed.
ELSA
You've been betrayed. How dare they have personalities
of their own? It would be a little cruel if one of the
brighter children wrote a novel about you. One of them
might, you know.
OLIVER
Sometimes it seems impossible to be of help.
ELSA
Be of help to who? No one wants to help anybody but
himself.
OLIVER
I can't figure you out.
ELSA
You can't even figure out those simple people in the house.
How do you expect to figure me out? A Vassar girl!
42
OLIVER
(Rises)
The trouble with you Vassar girls is, you've got no faith.
ELSA
(Standing center)
And the trouble with you unpublished writers is, you
have. Faith belongs to the great only. Foolish people aren't
entitled to faith. They make trouble with it, for them-
selves and for everybody else. They gather their feeble-
ness into crazy mobs that don't understand anything ex
cept to insist. If you want the world to be better, be better
yourself.
OLIVER
(Very angry)
Shut up!
ELSA
(Amazed)
What?
OLIVER
(Shouting)
Shut up! That's what! I don't want to hear any more of
this chit-chat.
ELSA
You know it's the truth.
OLIVER
Shut up, I said! I love you!
43
JESSE
Ha-ha-ha!
(OLIVER studies JESSE. JESSE studies OLIVER. OLIVER
takes some money out of his pocket)
OLIVER
Here! Here's half-a-dollar,
JESSE
(Takes the coin)
What for?
OLIVER
Get yourself an education and -be like me.
JESSE
You two going along?
OLIVER
Yes. And to help you with your novel, Fm going to marry
her.
(To ELSA)
That's right.
JESSE
Are you coming back?
OLIVER
No, Fm not.
JESSE
Why?
OLIVER
Because I don't like you.
44
JESSE
Couldn't you make it seventy-five cents?
OLIVER
(Starts to bring out more money. In anger changes
his mind)
No! Why should I?
JESSE
Ah, come on. Just two bits more.
OLIVER
No!
JESSE
(Picks up a rock and gets set to throw it. He is
very angry for no reason. OLIVER enters the contest
alertly and fearlessly)
Two bits.
OLIVER
You throw that rock, and I'll break your neck.
ELSA
Richard, be careful!
OLIVER
Shut up, I said. I can take care of myself.
JESSE
(Drawing a line on ground with his foot)
Cross this line and see what happens,
OLIVER
It so happens, Fm going the other way.
45
JESSE
Well, you better if you know what's good for you.
OLIVER
(Turns to ELSA)
What's more, we'll have kids, too. The God-damnedest
punks in the world. Don't talk. You've said everything.
To hell with the people in the house! Let God take care
of them, the same as ever. To hell with art! To hell with
propaganda! To hell with you! I love you, so shut up and
let's try to live.
(Both exit through gate and off up left. JESSE
watches them go. He looks at the half-dollar, then
rushes into the house. Inside the house there is a
great commotion. The children are singing "My
Country 'Tis of Thee! 9 GEORGE arrives from up
left on his bike, and settles it by the gate. He hears
the noise inside the house and rushes to the lower
window)
GEORGIE
Hey. Cut out that racket.
(He turns suddenly and sees HENRY come out on
the porch in one of ANN'S dresses)
Who are you? What are you doing in that dress?
HENRY
(With dress over his own clothes)
I'm a society ladyl
(He does a bump)
GEORGIE
Society lady? Where's Miss Ann Hamilton?
HENRY
Who?
GEORGIE
Miss Ann Hamilton.
HENRY
Annie doesn't live here any more.
GEORGIE
(Sees CABOT in upper window)
What are you people doing in this house?
CABOT
We aim to rest a while and catch our breath.
GEORGIE
Where's Barnaby Gaul?
HENRY
(Crosses down to bike at gate)
You mean that fellow with the straw hat? He went away.
(SELMA, one of the twins, comes out and studies
GEORGIE. Showing herself off flirting)
SELMA
Hello!
GEORGTE
(Stung and shy)
Where's Miss Hamilton?
47
SELMA
(Coyly)
She went with the man. We're living here now.
GEORGIE
(Angry but impressed by SELMA'S beauty. He sud-
denly notices HENRY fooling with his bicycle, trying
to get on it)
Get away from that wheel!
(Drives HENRY away> turns and stares at SELMA)
SELMA
(Attractively)
You aiming to come back and pay us another visit some
time?
GEORGIE
(Suddenly)
This house don't belong to you people.
SELMA
(Sweetly)
I hope you're aiming to come back.
VELMA
(The other twin, comes out and studies GEORGIE
also flirting)
Hello!
GEORGIE
(Very angrily)
Hello, nothing! *
VELMA
What's your name?
GEORGIE
Never mind what my name is. You people get out of this
housel
VELMA
My name's Velma.
GEORGIE
What do I care what your name is? You people are house-
wreckers.
WILBUR
No, we're not.
VELMA
I'm sixteen. How old are you?
GEORGIE
What do I care how old you are? You people are mice.
WILBUR
No ? we're not.
GEORGIE
(Heroically after some effort)
You folks get out of this house. It belongs to Miss Ann
Hamilton and Mr. Barnaby GauL It belongs to true love.
(VELMA and SELMA come toward GEORGIE. He is
frightened. He pushes down on the pedal of his
bike and rides off up left. The big boy, NEWTON,
breaks out of the house, holding a half roasted
49
chicken, a bunch of grapes, bread, piece of cheese
and other miscellaneous items of food. He is hold-
ing off two or three younger brothers and sisters)
NEWTON
The whole house is full of things to eat, I got mine.
(WARN Curtain)
(The TWINS hurry back into the house. HENRY fol-
lows them. There is great NOISE in the house;
then, suddenly silence]
(GAUL returns from up left to pick up his suitcase 7
and tries to escape. ANN follows him)
ANN
Barnaby! YouVe come back.
GAUL
(Grandly again the poet and vagrant, free and un-
encumbered)
Dear lady, you shame me. Your poetic words pierce me
like arrows.
(He places hand over heart dramatically. He brings
her into yard)
I am sweetly wounded by your devotion! I would be the
lowest of the low to leave you here in this garden of dis-
order, except except, I repeat that there are things
stronger even than love, if one can only discover them.
I am not your man, (Swiftly and softer] except when I
am.
(Crosses down with ANN to the left of porch. ANN
sits in rocking chair)
5
That is the truth, and the truth is hard. Forgive me, dear
lady. The lies I tell are never for the purpose of hurting
others. There is murder in such lies. In mine there is birth.
I say only what others wish me to say. I have said what
you have wished to hear. Gentle deceit is best for the mo-
ment, but for the year, truth is best. Stay, I beg of you.
Do not leave yourself. To be vagrant, dear lady, you must
be swift.
(Gently)
Stay.
(Softly. ANN'S arm falls helplessly)
I shall remember you. I promise. Good-by, dear lady.
(ANN is stunned and for a moment looks helplessly
around. She sees LEONA coming out on the porch.
She hears noise and confusion inside the house. As
in a trance she slowly goes out through the gate as
the]
CURTAIN FALLS
ACT TWO
ACT TWO
Several hours later, about two in the afternoon.
Everything has quieted down. CABOT YEARLING is
on the lawn in front of the house, sleeping in the
shade.
LEONA is rocking in ANN'S rocking-chair on the
porch. Miscellaneous CHILDREN are at miscellaneous
games, in slow motion.
The scene is bright and somnolent. Cries of "Ice
Cream" from far away.
The TWINS come out of the house, each in one of
ANN'S dresses, each wearing high-heeled shoes, each
powdered and rouged. They look like movie ac-
tresses.
MR. SMITH and MR. HARRIS, walking by left to right
in the street, notice the GIRLS, come back, pause a
moment, and then go away.
VELMA
(Coming down steps)
Look, Ma.
(LEONA looks, smiles maternally)
55
We bathed, too.
LEONA
Hear that, Cabot? They bathed, too.
SELMA
(Coming down steps)
Look, Pa. Look at me!
CABOT
(Sits up and looks)
Selma, you look like a picture actress. Leonie, why don't
you dress up, too?
LEONA
Now, Cabot!
VELMA
There must be ten or eleven more dresses in the closet,
Ma.
CABOT
Why, sure, Leonie. Does a woman good to dress up fancy
once in a while. Any men's clothes in there?
SELMA
No men's clothes, but lots of dresses.
CABOT
(Lying back again)
Go on inside, Leonie, and get into some pretty things.
LEONA
Well, all right, Cabot
(She goes into the house)
56
VELMA
(With pride)
We're going to walk around town, Pa.
CABOT
Well, all right.
(Sleepily)
Be careful.
VELMA
(To SELMA, lifting her dress high]
Are my stockings straight?
(The stockings are red)
SELMA
(Lifting her dress, revealing blue stockings)
Uh-huh. Mine?
VELMA
Uh-huh. Well, come on.
(The GIRLS walk away up left. CABOT gets up on an
elbow to watch and shakes his head sadly. MR.
SMITH and MR. HARRIS walk by in the street, fol-
lowing the girls)
CABOT
(Sadly)
Til be losing them girls soon. Get married, or go on the
stage, or meet somebody, or something.
(Falls back helpless, and looks straight up in great
loneliness)
They grow up and leave you.
57
(He sits up impressively, looks around and nods
several times at the truth he has discovered)
They grow up and go away.
(Pause and deep thought)
First they're little children you can hardly recognize, and
then all of a sudden they're (With awe and irritation
and resentment) women.
(He sighs, exhaling sorrowfully. Pause. Loudly and
-with anger)
It's moving pictures that does it. Moving pictures.
( Broken-hearted )
They was always the nicest children I ever knew. Sweet
and thoughtful and courteous. Now, they're women. It's
moving pictures! Clark Gable and all them different men
coming into their lives. All those heroes jumping on horses
all the time, saving people from drowning, winning wars.
All them good-looking men putting their heads close to
women, talking confidentially. Reciting poetry. Whisper-
ing in their ears.
(Very angry)
I remember a picture where the fellow bit her ear. Bit it!
All them well-dressed men with millions of dollars, doing
all kinds of brave things. You can't hardly blame the chil-
dren. They don't know there ain't any people like that.
They get impatient to grow up, so they can meet moving
picture millionaires. I've been through ten states, and I've
never seen anybody like Clark Gable, fixing everything up
everywhere. I've seen 'em in one state the same as in an-
other, working, or tired, or worried, or sick. It's moving pic-
58
tures, making promises they can't keep. I'll be losing them
girls soon, I can see it in their eyes. No matter what a
man does, it just seems like he's always going to lose
something.
(He sighs)
It scares a man. Gives him a lonely feeling.
(He lies back sadly. GEORGEE AMERICANOS arrives on
his bicycle and settles it by the gate; crosses up to
porch. CABOT sits up dreamily)
Telegram for me?
GEORGIE
Telegram for you! I want to talk to Miss Hamilton.
CABOT
Ain't nobody here but us.
GEORGIE
What right have you got to move into somebody else's
house?
CABOT
We aim to rest a while and catch our breath.
GEORGIE
What kind of people are you, anyway?
CABOT
Migratory workers.
GEORGIE
Well, why don't you work? Or migrate?
CABOT
Leonie can't work. She's going to have a baby. The big
59
boy gets tired easy. The twins they just went to town
they don't like farm work. The others are all too little.
GEORGIE
Well, why don't you work?
CABOT
(Lies down again)
Can't get a job.
GEORGIE
(Disgusted)
Ah. You're just no good. What made you come to Cali-
fornia from Oklahoma?
CABOT
(Melodramatically )
Dust.
GEORGIE
Dust! Where'd you get that from?
CABOT
(Up)
The writer told me.
GEORGIE
(Disgusted)
You could have gone the other way. You could have gone
to Kansas or somewhere down around in there.
CABOT
(Down)
Nope. California.
60
GEORGIE
Aaaah. You people are no good, that's all. Well, you better
get out of this house in a hurry, and don't forget it.
CABOT
Ain't your house,
GEORGIE
(Burning up)
Ain't yours either.
CABOT
Ain't yours.
GEORGIE
Ain't yours either. You're taking advantage of Miss Hamil-
ton driving her out of her own house. You ought to be
ashamed.
CABOT
We didn't drive nobody from nowhere. He just went, and
then she fust went. No use leaving the house empty.
GEORGIE
How do you expect anybody to live in a house with a
million people like you hanging around?
CABOT
(Terribly disgusted)
Sixteen people.
(ANN in deep and tragic sorrow, arrives down right,
excited)
We was in the front yard, minding our own business
61
GEOKGIE
What's the matter, Miss Hamilton?
ANN
(Sits on porch)
He's gone.
GEORGIE
Gone? Where'd he go?
ANN
I don't know. He said he was going back to Boston.
GEORGIE
Boston?
ANN
He said for me to forget him.
GEORGIE
Aaah.
ANN
I begged him to take me with him, but he wouldn't do it.
I told him Fd sell the house. I told him to give me two or
three days and I'd sell the house and we'd go away to-
gether, but he said he had to start going right away.
GEORGIE
How'd he go? By train?
ANN
(Rises and crosses left)
He went running.
62
GEORGIE
How can a man run to Boston?
ANN
I ran after him a while, and then I couldn't run any more.
Now, I don't know what to do.
GEORGIE
Listen, Miss Hamilton. He's just a good-for-nothing tramp,
like everybody else around here.
(Crosses to CABOT)
CABOT
(up)
Migratory worker.
ANN
(Defensively]
He's an itinerant merchant.
GEORGIE
Yeah? What does he sell?
ANN
Medicine.
(She brings a bottle out of her handbag)
He gave me a bottle of it.
(Hands the bottle to GEORGIE)
GEORGIE
(Reading the label)
Dr. Greathearf s Five-Star Multi-Purpose Indian Remedy.
Good for all kinds of aches, pains and sores. Works ex-
63
ternally as well as Internally. Quiets nerves. Stimulates
super-human powers in tired men. Excellent for female
nervous wrecks. Cures backaches. Contains numerous
secret vitamins. Good for epilepsy? toothache, social dis-
eases, earache, stomach disorders, insanity. Aaaah, this is a
lot of hooey.
CABOT
Son, let me have a look at that bottle.
GEORGIE
One dollar a bottle. Is that what he sells?
ANN
Yes. He's got a suitcase full of them. He's gone.
GEORGIE
Well, you better forget him.
ANN
Forget him? Fm going to sell this house and go to Boston.
GEORGIE
He isn't going to Boston. Hell go to some town near here
somewhere: Visalia, or Hanford, or Coalingo, or some
other little town where there are lots of poor, ignorant
people in the streets who will buy his medicine.
CABOT
Uninformed.
ANN
Well, wherever he goes, Fm going, too.
6 4
GEORGIE
Listen, Miss Hamilton, that telegram wasn't a real tele-
gram.
ANN
Of course it was real.
GEORGIE
No, it wasn't. That man's name isn't Barnaby Gaul.
ANN
Now, Georgie, don't tell lies just to comfort me.
GEORGIE
I'm not comforting you.
ANN
Georgie, I know the truth.
GEORGIE
O.K., then. I'll get Barnaby Gaul
ANN
Will you, Georgie?
GEORGIE
Sure, I will. I'll bring him back here, if that's what you
want.
ANN
Oh, I do, Georgie. Will you get him?
GEORGIE
If you'll get these people out of your house, I will.
65
ANN
(Feebly to CABOT who is sleeping)
You get out of here. Go away.
(To GEORGIE)
They won't go.
GEORGIE
Listen, you. You heard her. This is her house. Pack up
your junk and get out of here.
(LEONA comes out of the house in one of ANN'S
dresses)
ANN
(To LEONA)
You take off my dress and get out of my house.
LEONA
My dress.
ANN
It's not your dress. I bought that dress at GottschalFs in
Fresno three years ago.
LEONA
My dress.
GEORGIE
(Stupefied and disgusted)
Aaaaaaah.
(HARRY comes out of the house with a book and
lies down on the lawn)
ANN
Georgie, help me.
66
GEORGIE
(Crosses to porch)
Listen, you riff-raff!
(THREE BOYS appear at upper windows)
Get out of this lady's house! Do you hear?
LEONA
You hush, child. You're just a boy. You don't understand
things.
CABOT
That's right, son. You go along and deliver your telegrams.
This is a matter that don't concern you.
GEORGIE
Aaaah.
ANN
Fm going into my house.
(She hurries up steps and into house)
HENRY
(In upper window)
It's our house now. Loosers weepers; finders keepers.
GEORGIE
You people leave that lady alone. You people are gang-
sters.
HARRY
No, we're not.
(ANN comes out of the house, bewildered and
dazed)
67
ANN
Georgia, they're all over the house. They've eaten every-
thing. Broken everything. Stolen everything. And they
won't go.
GEORGIE
Fll go get the police.
ANN
WhatTl J do? Where'll I go?
GEORGEE
You go over to my house. My father's there. His name's
Stylianos. The address is 137 Vine Street. You know
where that is?
ANN
137 Vine Street. IT1 find it.
GEORGTE
Tell my father everything, and wait there for me.
ANN
All right, Georgie. Thanks ever so much.
GEORGIE
Any time.
ANN
137 Vine Street.
(She goes out gate and off up right)
GEORGIE
(Pushing down the pedal on his bike)
68
That's right. I'll get the police to come here and make
them go away. I'll get a writ of some kind.
CABOT
Writ? The whole nation's behind us.
(GEORGIE rides off up left.)
(LEONA sits down in the rocking-chair. CABOT
stretches out in the shade. Everything is quiet and
peaceful. Then DAVID F. WINDMORE arrives from up
left. WINDMORE is neatly but uncomfortably dressed
for that region and climate, and his imitation
leather briefcase appears to be dying of loneliness
and exposure. WINDMORE is a brisk young man,
bursting with positiveness, confidence, stick-to-it-
ive-ness, and many other horrible things. He speaks
swiftly, but enunciates his words very carefully, so
that they have the effect of sounding unreal and
foreign)
WINDMORE
(To CABOT)
Good afternoon, sir.
CABOT
(Sitting up, startled at the strange voice and man-
ner of speaking)
Good afternoon.
WINDMORE
(To LEONA)
How do you do, ma'am?
6 9
LEONA
How do?
WINDMORE
(To CABOT and LEONA both)
A lovely day. A beautiful countryside. A rich and fertile
valley. A benevolent warmth. A delightful pressure of air.
(Almost in the same breath)
My name is David F. Windmore. Think of wind for wind.
Think of more-or-less for more: Windmore. Think of
David and Goliath for David, and think of Frank for F,
although the F is actually for Fenimore.
CABOT
Hear that, Leonie?
WINDMORE
(Opening briefcase, efficiently)
No home life is a full home life unless included among
its general activities is the special and important activity
of r-r-r-reading.
CABOT
Hear that?
WTNDMORE
A well-read man is a well-bred man. He is a man who can
carry on a lively and intelligent conversation on any topic
with anybody, and therefore his company is desirable on
all sides.
CABOT
What must I do?
7
WINDMORE
(Bringing out a copy of Time Magazine]
Time Magazine curt, clear, complete brings to your
home every Friday all the news of the world: Art, books,
business, cinema, education, medicine, music, people,
press, radio, religion, science, sport, and theater. National
affairs: The President, the Congress, Labor, the States,
crime, politics, and so on. World War, Poland, Germany,
France, England, Russia, Finland, and the others. Mili-
tary events at sea. Sinking of ships. Submarines and mines.
China and Japan. Time marches on.
CABOT
(Eagerly]
How do they get that news? Telegraph?
WINDMORE
Time Magazine is assembled every week by intelligent
men all over the world. Editor of the magazine is Henry R.
Luce.
CABOT
Henry R. Luce.
(Sleepily]
College man, I suppose. Educated.
WINDMORE
The managing editors are: Manfred Gottfried
CABOT
Manfred Gottfried.
WINDMORE
Frank Norris.
7 1
CABOT
Norris.
WINDMORE
T. S. Matthews.
CABOT
Matthews.
WINDMORE
The Associate Editors are Carlton J. Balliett Jr.
CABOT
Junior.
LEONA
Cabot, let the man talk.
WINDMORE
Carlton J. Balliett Jr., Robert Cantwell, Laird S. Golds-
borough, David W. Hulburd Jr., John Stuart Martin,
Fanny Saul, Walter Stockly, Dana Tasker, Charles Were-
tenbaker.
(LEONA begins to rock in her chair. CABOT lies down
and looks up at the sky, drawing pictures in the air ?
erasing them, and drawing new ones)
The Contributing Editors of Time Magazine are: Roy
Alexander, John F. Allen, Robert W. Boyd Jr., Roger But-
terfield, Whittaker Chambers, James G. Crowley, Robert
Fitzgerald, Calvin Fixx, Walter Graebner, John Hersey,
Sidney L. James, Eliot Janeway, Pearl Kroll, Louis Kronen-
berger, Thomas K. Krug, John T. McManus, Sherry Man-
gan, Peter Matthews, Robert Neville, Emeline Nollen,
7 2
Duncan Norton-Taylor, Sidney Olsen, John Osborne,
Content Peckham, Green Peyton, Williston C. Rich Jr.,
Winthrop Sargeant, Robert Sherrod, Lois Stover, Leon
Svirsky, Felice Swados, Samuel G. Welles Jr., Warren
Wilhelm, and Alfred Wright Jr.
(CABOT drops his arm and turns over to go to sleep.
LEONA rocks slower and slower, and then stops com-
pletely. WINDMORE notices them out of the corner
of his eyes, pauses a moment, but decides to go
right ahead with his work)
(GAUL arrives from up left)
The Editorial Assistants of Time Magazine are:
(GAUL enters through gate)
LEONA
Yes. Tell us who they are.
WINDMORE
Ellen May Ach, Sheila Baker, Sonia Bigman, Elizabeth
Budelrnan, Maria de Blasio, Hannah Durand, Jean Ford,
Dorothy Gorrell, Helen Gwynn, Edith Hind, Lois Hols-
worth, Diana Jackson, Mary V. Johnson, Alice Lent,
Kathrine Lowe, Carolyn Marx, Helen McCreery, Gertrude
McCullough, Mary Louise Mickey, Anna North, Mary
Palmer, Tabitha Petran, Elizabeth Sacartoff, Frances
Stevenson, Helen Vind, Eleanor Welch, and Mary Welles.
(Loofes from one to the other)
LEONA
(Lifts her head and opens her eyes)
No more names?
73
WINDMORE
No, that just about winds up the editorial department.
LEONA
What were some of those nice names again?
WINDMORE
Duncan Norton-Taylor. Williston C. Rich Jr.
LEONA
Yes, yes. My name's Leona. I don't know what you could
think of for Leona. Could you tell me?
WINDMORE
Oh ? I'll remember it all right. Leona. It's an easy name to
remember.
LEONA
Leona Yearling. What could you think of for Yearling?
WINDMORE
Yearling. That's easy, too. I'll remember it all right. Now,
Mrs. Yearling, Time Magazine, I think you'll agree, is
something you and Mr. Yearling should read.
CABOT
(Half asleep)
Is that so?
WINDMORE
(Brightly)
The subscription rate is five dollars for one year. All you
have to do is sign this form and next Friday the mailman
will bring you your first copy of Time.
74
CABOT
Is that all I've got to do?
WINDMORE
That's all. Well bill you later.
CABOT
Give me a pencil.
WINDMORE
Oh. Life will be so much more interesting for you after
Time Magazine begins to arrive every Friday. So much
more dramatic and exciting.
(Filling in the form)
Mr. Cabot Yearling. 333 Orchard Avenue. Bakersfield,
California.
CABOT
That's right. Where do I sign?
WINDMORE
On this line, Mr. Yearling. Wouldn't you rather sit up?
CABOT
No. I just want to sleep a little. I enjoy sleeping in the
afternoon. Here?
WINDMORE
Yes ? Mr. Yearling.
CABOT
(Signing)
X X.
(Hands the form back)
75
There you are, son. You haven't got a cigar, have you?
WINDMORE
No, Fm sorry, I haven't. I don't smoke.
CABOT
It don't matter, really. I just thought you might have one.
WINDMORE
Until next Friday, then.
CABOT
Next Friday.
WINDMORE
It's been a pleasure, Mr. Yearling.
CABOT
Not at all.
WINDMORE
Mrs. Yearling.
LEONA
Couldn't you just say a few more of those names?
WINDMORE
(Brightly)
Henry R. Luce, Manfred Gottfried, Carlton J. Balliett Jr.
LEONA
My gracious.
WINDMORE
Whittaker Chambers. Calvin Fixx. Louis Kronenberger.
Oh, yes, Mrs. Yearling. Laird S. Goldsborough.
7 6
LEONA
Laird S. Goldsborough.
WINDMORE
Oh, yes, Mrs. Yearling, Laird S. Goldsborough.
(He bends over CABOT briskly, extending his hand)
CABOT
(Frightened. Half asleep)
What do you want?
WINDMORE
Just to shake your hand, Mr. Yearling.
CABOT
Oh.
(He holds up his hand, which WINDMORE grasps
and shakes violently)
WINDMORE
Mrs. Yearling?
(He shakes her hand, too)
Until next Friday, then.
LEONA
Just one more name.
WINDMORE
Well, let me see. Felice Swados?
LEONA
Felice Swados.
WINDMORE
And last but not least, my own personal gift to my clients.
77
(He brings out a toy horn; blows it; hands one to
LEONA)
Mrs. Yearling.
(Hands another to CABOT)
Mr. Yearling. And now, good-by.
(WINDMORE turns to go out gate. GAUL, who has
been listening out in the street, suddenly speaks, or
rather roars. He commands the whole area immedi-
ately)
GAUL
Just a moment.
(HENRY is running around the house up right. He
stops cold and turns. CABOT gets to his elbow and
turns. LEONA stops rocking. WINDMORE halts. To
WINDMORE, completely impersonal)
My friend, my fellow worker in the field, and, I believe
but regret, my contemporary. With no intention in the
world of being rude to you, or to these good and humble
people of the earth, I could not help overhearing part
and perhaps the greater part of that which I shall gener-
ously call your pitch.
(JESSE puts his head out of an upstairs window)
Step up just a little closer, please.
(Takes folding stand from suitcase and sets it cen-
ter. WINDMORE moves forward. CABOT gets up com-
pletely. HENRY, LUCY and the other CHILDREN move
forward a little. JESSE climbs out of the window
onto the roof)
78
For the purpose of the amazing demonstration I am about
to make, I must trouble you for a silver dollar. One silver
American dollar.
(GAUL is holding a deck of cards he forces WIND-
MORE to take out a dollar)
Thank you.
WINDMORE
(Hesitates)
For the demonstration?
GAUL
For the demonstration.
WINDMORE
What kind of a demonstration is it?
GAUL
(Taking dollar out of WINDMORE'S hand)
A most amazing demonstration. Now, will you be good
enough to take a card. Any card at all.
(WINDMORE takes a card GAUL has pushed out
farther than any other card in the deck)
Thank you. What card have you?
WINDMORE
The Nine of Clubs.
GAUL
(Taking the card)
The Nine of Clubs.
(Showing the card around daintily)
79
Will you place the Nine of Clubs on the table face down.
(Crosses to LEONA on porch)
Madam, will you be good enough to take a card?
(LEONA takes a card)
Thank you. What card have you?
LEONA
The Nine of Clubs.
(WINDMORE reaches for his dollar)
GAUL
One moment, please.
(To LEONA)
Will you kindly hold the Nine of Clubs aloft? Step up a
little closer, please. On this card I will place this silver
dollar. Around the card and the silver dollar, I will place
these three candles, and I will light them. One. Two.
Three.
(He does so)
LUCY
(Sings)
Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.
GAUL
Thank you, dear child. Now. The card is on the table.
The dollar is on the card. The three candles are burning.
(Impersonally)
Step up just a little closer, please.
80
(EVERYBODY moves in a little closer)
WINDMORE
(Impatiently)
Fm sorry. I must go. Give me back my dollar.
GAUL
(Furiously , but impersonally)
Please do not interrupt. Never interrupt a pitch. At least
not a high pitch.
(WINDMORE is silenced. GAUL studies WINDMORE)
You are no doubt a Harvard man. A man only recently
turned loose into the world from one of the larger and
more exclusive Universities of the East: Harvard, Yale,
Princeton, or Dartmouth. My association with Universi-
ties has been comparatively meager. I have only seen a
University. A Baptist University, I believe, somewhere
or other in the State of Ohio. Furthermore, you are a
reader of Esquire Magazine.
WINDMORE
This suit was given to me by my mother.
GAUL
Your mother is a reader of Esquire Magazine. I read re-
ligious pamphlets, brochures on the lesser known arts, cat-
alogues, and for relaxation the labels on bottles of various
kinds, usually empty.
WINDMORE
This is nonsense.
81
GAUL
Nonsense? No 7 my friend. You are nonsense. I only dwell
in a world of nonsense.
(Swiftly sober seriously)
"l have neither degree nor diploma, and yet it is I, not
you, who goes about with tidings of hope. I heal the
wounds of people. I instruct them in courage and forti-
tude, not you.
CABOT
Hear that, Leonie? He's a preacher.
GAUL
No, my good friend, you are mistaken. My father was a
preacher. I am a doctor. There is no other word for it. At
the same time, I am more than a doctor.
CABOT
Well, Doc. What about them pains in my head?
GAUL
Stop thinking, my friend, stop thinking. I heal those
mysterious ailments in the living which science itself has
not been able to isolate or identify. I destroy death in
the living. That is my work. Step up fust a little closer,
please.
(EVERYBODY moves forward a little. A SHOPPER en-
ters up right in the street; stops to listen)
WINDMORE
Will you please give me back my dollar?
82
GAUL
(Loudly, with anger and impatience)
Not another word. Not another word.
(Softly)
You are not one who is exempt from the illnesses it is my
purpose here to cure. You are not exempt.
(Gently swiftly)
I have returned to say a gentle word to the woman whose
good heart I have hurt.
(He crosses to LEONA, who is still holding the card
aloft)
You may put the card down, Madam.
(Shouting)
Ann! Ann!
CABOT
She ain't here, Doc.
GAUL
Where is she?
CABOT
She came back, Doc, but she went away again.
GAUL
(Guiltily, with great but loud remorse)
I quarreled with her in the streets. I ran from her as
though she were death itself. I came to plead with this
woman. I came hoping she would be established in her
home again. I came to see these good and honest people.
(To CABOT)
Yes, you. And you.
83
(To LUCY)
And you. You are honest and you are good. As the world
has made you, so must I understand you ? for as the world
has made me, so must I be understood. Understanding
you, I know that this house is yours, no less than hers.
You were commanded to be fruitful, and by God you
have been fruitful. No man may say the fruit you have
brought forth is not the finest in the world, since it is
yours, and you could bring forth no other. But it is mine,
too, and mine is yours. Love is selfish. I returned hoping
you would be gone.
CABOT
We aim to rest a while and catch our breath,
GAUL
I know. I know. I returned knowing that you would not
be gone.
(Loudly]
There is nowhere for you to go. I can go where I please, but
when there is homelessness, I am homeless. I am not sep-
arated from any part of life. Here in this front yard, I must
wage with others the war in Europe, even. I am encumbered
by you in the depths of my sleep. When there is hunger, I
am hungry, and when the children weep, they are my chil-
dren.
(To WXNDMORE, sharply)
You have studied, no doubt, the reasons for things: for
disgrace, for wretchedness, for disease and for stupor.
WINDMORE
I studied business administration.
GAUL
You would have done better to study sleep, as
(Indicating CABOT)
this man has.
(To WINDMOEE)
I have studied the reasons for things: for disgrace, for
wretchedness, for disease, for stupor. No man in the world
knows better than I why these tragic things occur in that
most miraculous and magnificent creation of the hand of
God: the noble body which is man. You bring news of
world-wide madness and horror to the living every Friday.
You make of universal crime a topic for idle reading. You
tell the people of foolishness everywhere, every week.
That's fine. I bring hope to the people. I have here in
these bottles a medicine. The juices of certain roots and
barks are extracted and boiled together
(HUSBAND who has entered up left with his wife,
comes down and whispers in GAUL'S ear)
Is this the lady?
(HUSBAND nods, GAUL slaps a bottle into his hand)
It has never failed, my friend. It has never failed.
(HUSBAND hands GAUL a dollar)
Thank you, my friend. May the Good Lord bless you.
(HUSBAND and his WIFE leave up right)
This mixture, which has an appropriately bitter flavor,
cannot, I am sure, cure anything. It can do no harm,
85
but it can cure nothing. What this fluid actually is only
God knows. But the taking of this fluid is the taking
of faith. And with these bottles I carry to the people that
which they need most. Faith. Do you understand?
WINDMORE
No 7 1 do not understand.
GAUL
This humble medicine can restore a kind of faith as long
as the bottle is not empty.
(Sorrowfully)
I know of no other way in which to do anything about the
wretchedness I see everywhere I go.
( Broken-hearted )
The regular cost is two dollars. For this area of California
only, and for this day only, the cost has been reduced one
half. One dollar for one bottle. The bottle is yours.
WINBMORE
I do not want it.
GAUL
(Furiously. Deeply wounded and very angry
shouting)
You would reject Jesus, I believe.
(He blows out the candles)
WINBMORE
I don't need any medicine, whatsoever.
GAUL
You are the sickest man in the world.
(He begins to pack up his suitcase)
86
WINDMORE
(Testily)
You are a charlatan.
GAUL
There were many who said the same of the Son of Man.
WINDMORE
What about the Nine of Clubs?
GAUL
It is still here, as you see.
WINDMORE
What about the dollar on the Nine of Clubs?
GAUL
It is gone, as you see. Drink and go away.
WINDMORE
Where is my dollar?
GAUL
Your dollar? Whose image is engraved upon the dollar?
WINDMORE
I don't know. I haven't looked carefully lately. But I will
not drink and I want my dollar.
GAUL
Ah ha. Just as I thought. You are not a student.
(Slowly)
I gave to Caesar long ago that which belongs to Caesar.
Go.
87
WINDMORE
Give me back my dollar.
GAUL
(Closing his suitcase)
Go. I lose my patience.
(Intimately, to CABOT)
Here is the dollar. Purchase commodities for the children.
Buy ridiculous things. This is a ridiculous world. Drink
this.
(CABOT takes the dollar. GAUL hands CABOT a bottle,
turns to go to gate)
WINBMORE
(Following him)
Give me back my money, you thief.
GAUL
(Stopping, as if stabbed in the back)
Thief? I am a missionary. If I find other college men in
the streets, I will come back later with more money. Until
next Friday then.
(GAUL goes off up left)
WINDMORE
(Following him)
Henry R. Luce. Curt ? clear, complete. Laird S. Goldsbor-
ough. National affairs. Crime. Politics. Religion. Louis
Kronenberger. Business administration. World War. $5.00
a year. You don't need to wait till next Friday.
(Throws Time Magazine to CABOT, and goes off
up left.)
(CABOT and LEONA -watch him silently and without
understanding. CABOT picks up the magazine looks
at it for a moment, blows the horn that WINDMORE
left for him. Then throws them both down}
CABOT
It don't make sense.
(CABOT takes a drink of GAUL'S medicine. He almost
finishes bottle y and gets to his feet. Starts to strut
about)
LEONA
(Blowing the horn WINDMORE gave her)
Do you remember any of the names, Cabot?
CABOT
What names?
LEONA
The wonderful names the magazine man said.
CABOT
I forgot 'em all, Leonie. But did you ever hear a man talk
the way that man with the bottles talked?
LEONA
I never heard anything like it before. What's going on in
the world, Cabot?
CABOT
(Sits. Authoritatively)
Leonie, I'm glad you asked me that. You see 7 the way
things are. You know, about industry and all. One thing
and another, they don't hardly ever match up equivalent
or comparative.
LEONA
Why, Cabot, I never heard you talk like that before.
CABOT
(Sitting up)
Oh, sure, Leonie. I just don't meet the right people. The
law of averages, don't you see, like when you take two and
two, and subtract one, somehow or other it don't make no
difference. Oh, I can think along with the best of them,
Leonie. I do get the ideas sometimes. You remember the
way I talked to that writer. I said all those things, where
he came in about social security. Social security. Oh, sure.
I said all those things. Economic stability and things like
that. You remember how I said propaganda right to his
face. Exploitation. You remember that. Land erosion and
all those different things.
(Suddenly)
Oh, I can talk to ? em, Leonie. I can talk right up to 'em.
Educational systems and all those.
LEONA
My, Cabot. You do sound good to hear.
CABOT
(Takes another drink from bottle)
Oh, hell fire, yeah, Leonie. I'm not so old.
(He yawns, looks around. His eyes go back to LEONA
several times, and then stay there, unmistakably in-
dicating how absurd it is for him to talk, whose func-
9
tion it is to know nothing, understand nothing, but
to be fruitful. His voice loses its abstract vigor and
youth, and becomes personal and a little ashamed)
Leonie, you look good. Young and beautiful and
LEONA
Oh, hush, Cabot!
CABOT
(Spitting)
You do, Leonie. Yes, you do. Come sit by my side.
(LEONA sits down beside CABOT. The big boy, NEW-
TON, comes around the house, up right)
NEWTON
Pa! What are you doing with that pretty woman? Fm go-
ing to tell Ma.
CABOT
Newt, this is your Ma.
NEWTON
Is that you, Ma?
LEONA
Yep.
NEWTON
I thought Pa was carrying on with some pretty woman
again.
LEONA
Shucks, no, Newt. If s just me, bathed and dressed.
91
NEWTON
Did you bathe again, Ma?
LEONA
Yep.
CABOT
(Smelling LEONA)
Smells like soap. Clean and sweet.
LEONA
Now, Cabot.
CABOT
Newt, go away somewhere. I want to talk to your Ma.
NEWTON
No. I want to listen.
CABOT
Now do as I say. Go away.
NEWTON
Why?
CABOT
I've got things to talk over with your Ma.
NEWTON
I'm tired, Ma. Can I put my head on your lap and go to
sleep, like I used to?
LEONA
Newt, you're too big a boy for that.
NEWTON
I ain't.
92
CABOT
Now, get the hell out of here, Newt.
NEWTON
I won't.
CABOT
You get the hell out of here, or I'll up and spank you.
NEWTON
No, you won't,
CABOT
(Threatening to get to his feet)
I won't, won't I?
LEONA
Now, Cabot.
NEWTON
No, you won't. She's my mother, and I guess I got a right
to rest my head on her lap.
CABOT
And I'm your father, and I guess I got a right to get up
and kick your pants.
NEWTON
Ma, tell him to stop.
LEONA
Cabot, let the boy rest his head.
NEWTON
Sure, Pa.
93
(GEORGIE arrives from up left, unseen. Gets off his
bike, watching and listening, fascinated but a little
frightened. He keeps out of sight)
CABOT
You go away, Newton Yearling.
NEWTON
Ah, Pa, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep.
CABOT
Go in the house and sleep. There's a time and place for
everything.
LEONA
Let the poor boy rest his head, Cabot.
CABOT
Leonie, you're my wife.
NEWTON
She's my mother.
LEONA
Now, now.
CABOT
I won't have you spoiling a full-grown boy. Go away,
Newt. Hurry, now.
NEWTON
I won't! I won't! I won't!
CABOT
(Getting up slowly)
94
You won't, won't you?
(He suddenly breaks into a powerful trot. NEWTON
is away to a good start, with his FATHER running
after him, up right. LEONA sits alone. WILBUR enters
from house; puts head in LEONA'S lap)
LEONA
My, it's good to be alive and bathed.
CABOT'S VOICE
(From behind the house)
Newt, you son of a bitch, drop that club or 111 break your
arm.
NEWTON'S VOICE
Don't come any closer, Pa, or I'll knock your head off.
CABOT'S VOICE
Drop that club, Newt, and run for your life, now.
NEWTON'S VOICE
Don't you fool with me, Pa. I'll hit you down. Look out
now, Pa. I'm warning you. Don't come any closer.
CABOT'S VOICE
Drop that club, I tell you, and run.
(The sound of human substance struck by a club
is heard)
Newt!
NEWTON'S VOICE
I warned you. Pa.
95
LEONA
My, if s peaceful and wonderful here.
(NEWTON returns, up right, throws club alongside
lion, picks up WILBUR, lies down and puts his head
on LEONA'S lap. WILBUR goes into the house)
NEWTON
Ma.
LEONA
(Pause)
Newt. Where's your Pa?
NEWTON
(Half asleep)
In the back yard. I hit him over the head with a club.
LEONA
Is he hurt?
NEWTON
I think he's dead.
LEONA
Now, Newt, you shouldn't ought to have done that.
NEWTON
Maybe he ain't.
LEONA
A good son shouldn't ought to hit his Pa with a club.
NEWTON
Well, why wouldn't he let me rest my head on your lap?
9 6
LEONA
AH right. Sleep now.
(A FARMER comes from up left, all worried and ner-
vous)
FARMER
Excuse me, ma'am? Anybody around here looking for
work?
LEONA
What kind of work?
FARMER
Picking grapes. That man there. I can pay him thirty
cents an hour. If he doesn't want to work by the hour I
can give him three cents a box. A fast worker can pick
fourteen or fifteen boxes an hour. That's about forty-five
cents. I've got a heavy crop this year.
LEONA
No 7 1 guess not.
FARMER
I need help bad this year, ma'am. He looks like a big man.
LEONA
No, he gets tired easy. Go talk to my husband. He's in
the back yard somewhere.
FARMER
All right, rna'am.
(Going to back of house up right)
I sure could use a few good hands.
97
NEWTON
(Half asleep)
Who was it, Ma?
LEONA
Just a farmer, looking for workers.
(The TWINS return from up left, on arms of MR.
SMITH and MR. KAURIS. They come down center)
VELMA
Ma, this is Mr. Harris. He's going to put me on the stage.
SELMA
Ma, this is Mr. Smith. He's going to put me on the stage,
too.
LEONA
Well, that's nice. I knew you two would get somewhere
in the world some day. Fm proud of you.
MR. HARRIS
You're entitled to be proud of these girls, Mrs. Yearling.
Two or three months of instruction is all they need. After
that, fame and fortune.
MR. SMITH
Well take all responsibility for the girls, Mrs. Yearling.
Don't you worry about anything.
MR. HARRIS
(Handing LEONA a card)
Our card. We're with the West Coast Novelty Amuse-
ment people. Branches in all major cities of the Pacific
Coast. Our school's in San Francisco. Well see that the
girls are properly cared for, instructed, and protected from
unsuitable companions.
MR. SMITH
You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Yearling. Mrs.
Cavanaugh will escort the girls to San Francisco, and look
over them like a mother. In the meantime, we want to
advance a little something to you on their future earnings.
(He counts out crisp new bills)
One, ,two, three, four, five. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
LEONA
Did you say "novelty people"?
MR. SMITH
(He makes a complete somersault, much to the
surprise of LEONA)
Yes, novelty.
VELMA
Gee!
LEONA
My! It's certainly good to see something unusual once in
a while.
VELMA
Isn't it wonderful, Ma?
LEONA
I'm proud of you.
MR. SMITH
We've only got a few minutes to catch the train.
99
LEONA
Now you take good care of them.
MR. SMITH
Oh, we will, Mrs. Yearling. Don't you worry about that.
(A SHERIFF in plain, untidy clothing, wearing a
badge, enters up left]
GEORGIE
I've been waiting for you, Sheriff. Gosh! I thought you'd
never get here. These are the people.
SHERIFF
Don't you worry, Georgie. Ill straighten out everything
in a minute or two. Law and order in the Sovereign State
of California.
(SMITH, HARRIS and the TWINS go off up left)
FARMER
(Returning up right)
Ma'am, I think that man's dead.
SHERIFF
Somebody been killed?
FARMER
Yes. Her husband.
SHERIFF
Who killed him?
NEWTON
(Sitting up and smiling)
I did. I hit him over the head with a club.
100
GEORGIE
No, he didn't!
SHERIFF
Well, how did he die, then?
GEORGIE
He tripped and fell off the back porch on his head.
SHERIFF
Let me make an official investigation.
(To LEONA)
Get your family together.
(Goes behind the house to right)
NEWTON
Ma, he didn't fall. I hit him.
GEORGIE
He fell
NEWTON
(Getting up, going to club and lifting it off the
ground)
I hit him with this.
GEORGIE
Give me that club.
(Takes club from NEWTON, throws it behind near
.the lion)
If you don't want a lot of trouble, ma'am, get your family
together and go away.
FARMER
He killed his father!
101
GEORGIE
He didn't kill anybody.
FARMER
He said he did.
GEORGIE
What do you expect a great big idiot like that to say?
NEWTON
I did too kill him.
GEORGIE
Ah, shut up!
LEONA
You be quiet, Newton Yearling.
(Calling her family)
Children! Childrenl We're moving along.
HENRY
(Appearing from house)
Come on, everybody. We're on our way again.
(One by one, the CHILDREN join their mother)
SHERIFF
(Returning)
He's dead all right. Fell on his head all right.
FARMER
No, he didn't! That big fellow hit him over the head,
102
SHERIFF
Did you see it happen?
FARMER
I didn't see it happen, but he said he did it.
SHERIFF
Well, then shut up! Now, let's see. Get in touch with the
Coroner and have him cart the body away.
GEORGIE
Thanks, Sheriff.
SHERIFF
Now, she can come back to her house.
FARMER
I tell you, there's been a murder!
SHERIFF
(Taking out notebook and pencil)
What's your name?
FARMER
Daniel Hough.
SHERIFF
How do you spell it?
FARMER
H-o-u-g-h.
SHERIFF
Age?
FARMER
Sixty-two.
103
SHERIFF
Married?
FARMER
Yes.
SHERIFF
Number of children?
FARMER
Five.
SHERIFF
Occupation?
FARMER
Farmer.
SHERIFF
What kind of a farm?
FARMER
Malaga and Muscat grapes.
SHERIFF
How many acres?
FARMER
Forty.
SHERIFF
That's all. Get out of here.
(He throws paper away absentmindedly)
FARMER
I don't know what a man ever wants to be a farmer for.
104
If I don't get workers, I'll lose my whole crop. It's murder.
SHERIFF
Get out of here.
(The FARMER goes off up right. To LEONA)
Ready to go? All you people arriving from all over the
country, making trouble, breaking laws, no respect for pri-
vate property.
GEORGffi
Sheriff, you don't need to bawl them out, just because
they're poor. They're just as good as any other people.
SHERIFF
Georgie, what is this anyhow? I get up out of a good
pinochle game and come out here to try to help you. You
want me to get these people out of her house, don't you?
GEORGIE
Yeah, but I thought you could do something for them.
You're a big important man.
SHERIFF
No, Georgie, Fm not big. And I'm not important. I'm a
Republican.
(To LEONA and the children)
Now clear out of here.
GEORGIE
(To LEONA)
You've got some place to go, haven't you?
105
LEONA
We'll just walk along to a front yard in the next block
somewhere.
GEORGIE
Why do you always want to go to places where people
don't want you? Go over to my father's house. 137 Vine
Street.
LEONA
We wouldn't want to bother anybody.
GEORGIE
You won't be bothering anybody. Go over there, will you?
LEONA
All right, children!
(They ALL start to go up left. The SHERIFF follows
them)
SHERIFF
Now get out, all of you. Law and order in the Sovereign
State of California.
(GEORGIE stands watching them go. CABOT comes
from behind the home, holding his head]
CABOT
Leona!
(Sees GEORGIE)
What happened?
GEORGIE
Your boy hit you over the head with a club.
106
CABOT
Is that what that crazy Newt did?
GEORGIE
Yeah, and everybody thought you were dead, too.
CABOT
I ain't, though. Where's Leonie?
GEORGIE
I sent them over to my father's house. You go there, too.
137 Vine Street.
(CABOT goes off up left. GEORGIE sits on the steps of
the house. GAUL arrives up left, a little drunk)
GEORGIE
(Running up to GAUL at gate)
Well, it's about time you came back to her.
GAUL
My God! The messenger of love again. My boy ? forgive
me. I have not come back to remain. I have come back to
depart.
(To center)
GEORGIE
Doesn't love mean anything to you?
GAUL
Anything? Everything.
GEORGIE
Then why have you come back to depart? Why haven't
you come back to remain?
107
GAUL
To depart is to remain, and to remain is very often to de-
part. My heart will stay here.
GEORGIE
What good is your heart, if you're not here with it?
GAUL
I am a traveler.
GEORGIE
What about Miss Hamilton?
GAUL
My heart is broken. Need I tell you my heart is broken?
You, who are Cupid itself. This is her world, not mine. I
am a traveler.
(WARN Curtain)
GEORGIE
Well, why don't you stop traveling? What do you always
want to be running around for?
GAUL
I arn one who seeks, and seeking all these years, I have
never found until this day, and having found, I am still
one who seeks.
GEORGIE
What do you seek?
GAUL
What all men seek and never find. One's self and one's
companion. My boy, you, with your morning telegram
108
from Boston, a city I have never so much as seen, today
revealed to my companion and to myself. I am not Bar-
naby Gaul, but no man in the world is Barnaby Gaul more
than I. Barnaby Gaul is he for whom shy and lonely love
waits in shy and lonely house this house guarded these
many years by this magnificent Abyssinian lion. You have
revealed me. I am a fraud.
SEORGIE
No, you're not.
GAUL
I am. Be good enough to tell this woman that I came to
say good-by.
GEORGIE
Go over to my father's house, will you, and talk to her?
She's waiting there. 137 Vine Street.
(FIRE EFFECT starts in house]
GAUL
Forgive me. I am on my way again. Messenger, bring the
good woman back to her trees and roses and songs and
dreams. Bring the good woman home. Home?
(Discovering fire)
My God! This house is on fire. Run down to the corner and
turn in the alarm.
(GEORGIE goes off up left)
Now the poor woman has no home to come back to.
(He goes into the house)
Anybody in here?
109
LUCY
(Inside the house)
I want my Mama.
GAXJL
(Reappearing with the CHILD in his arms)
All right. Don't cry. Ill find your Mama for you. This is
a hell of a mess for a traveling man to be in.
(He looks at house)
CURTAIN
110
ACT THREE
ACT THREE
SCENE: The parlor of STYLIANOS AMERICANOS' house. About
three the same afternoon. The room is typical of
the parlors of almost all peoples of the Near East
in America. There is a door down right; an arch
back right center; a window up left; a door down
left. There is a table above door right; a sofa and
two chairs up right; chairs, piano and stool up
left; a cabinet above door left; table with chairs
right and left of it at right center; armchair left
center; chair in hall. Oriental rug. Pillows covered
with red, purple, green and other bright-colored
soft cloths. An old Army rifle, crossing a sword in
its sheath, over an enormous photograph of eleven
men, ranging in age from fifteen to seventy all
with moustaches of one sort or another, each in a
military uniform or part of one, each holding a gun,
A big photograph of a naked baby on a table cov-
ered with velvet The baby is GEORGIE, aged three
months. Another photograph of a bride and groom
GEORGIE'S father and mother standing stiffly in
unnatural clothes. A phonograph about twenty-five
years old on table above right door. A few large
books; a map of the world as it was about twenty-
ill,
five years ago, bordered with the flags of the various
nations, as well as pictures of the kings, emperors
and presidents of the time. Also a photograph of
STYLIANOS in wrestler's tights.
STYLIANOS is at the center of the room, seated on
crossed legs, smoking a nargilah. He is an enormous
man of forty-one or so, thick-necked, with heavy
arms, big hands, and a naive, spiritual face. PERICLES,
his father, a man in his early seventies, comes in
noisily, left, walks about mumbling discontentedly
to himself, sits down left center and lights a cigarette.
The two men smoke in silence a moment, and then
begin to speak, the father in Greek, the son in
broken English.
PERICLES
AaaahHi, aaaahkh.
STYLIANOS
Don't worry, Papa. Everything's going to be satisfactory.
PERICLES
(In Greek)
Home, Home.
STYLIANOS
The whole world is a man's home.
PERICLES
(In Greek)
My home is Smyrna. I was bora in Smyrna. I want to die
in Smyrna.
114
STYLIANOS
Papa, you are a strong man. Maybe some day we will go
back to Smyrna together.
PERICLES
(Shaking his head. In Greek)
No. No,
(He finishes his cigarette, gets up)
The years are all gone. I have given them to you and
Georgie.
(He points to himself in the photograph back left.
STYLIANOS gets up, puts his arm around his father)
That was me, Stylianos. Aaahkh, aaahkh. The infidel
Turks.
STYLIANOS
My papa. He is still fighting the Turks.
PERICLES
(Furiously)
My son, if I had my youth.
(He shakes his head)
If I only had my youth.
(He turns and smiles at his son)
Give my love to Georgie. I will come back later, and we will
sit together and remember the old country. Good-by.
(He goes to arch right center; then returns to his
chair)
No. I will stay.
(He sits down)
STYLIANOS "
That's right, Papa. You stay here* We got Smyrna here,
too.
(STYLIANOS takes a few more puffs at the nargilah.
He gets up, goes to the phonograph, winds it, selects
a record, puts it on, and a scratchy but nevertheless
beautiful Near-Eastern composition begins. It could
be Greek, Armenian, Turkish, Kurdish or Persian. It
is, in fact, music of a place in the world not music
of a people. It is sung by a woman with a very high-
pitched, mournful and lovely voice. The name of the
song is "Nari Nan" The record doesn't quite end
when the DOORBELL rings. STYLIANOS shuts off
the phonography and goes to the door left. It is ANN
HAMILTON)
ANN'S VOICE
(Off left)
Mi. Americanos?
STYLIANOS
Yes ? come in, please.
ANN
(Coming in, breathlessly)
Excuse me 7 Mr. Americanos?
STYLIANOS
Yes, kdy.
ANN
Fm Miss Ann Hamilton. I live at 333 Orchard Avenue.
STYLIANOS
Your son Georgia told me to come here until the police
drive the people away from my house.
(Magnificently childlike, dreamy, helpless, beautiful,
bewildered and amazed)
They won't go. They just won't budge. It's my house.
Georgie went to get the police.
(Coming to center with her)
Don't worry. Everything's going to be satisfactory.
ANN
Fm so confused. It seems like I've been walking years. It's
because he's gone. I guess I got lost, too. Everything's
changed. A few hours ago I was happy. Then the people
came. Then they wouldn't go. Then he went. Then I went
after him.
(Sighing)
So many things have happened to me today.
STYLIANOS
Lady. Please cool down. It's not good to be so exciting.
PERICLES
(In Greek)
What's the matter?
STYLIANOS
(Starts to pour drink on table right center)
Papa, the lady's got trouble.
(To ANN)
It's nothing. Please sit down.
117
ANN
Oh, thank you, Mr. Americanos.
(Sits right of right center table)
It's wonderful people like you
(Tragically)
I begged him to stay.
STYLIANQS
Here, lady. Please take this. It will do you good.
(He hands drink to ANN)
ANN
I told him to wait, and we'd go away together, I told him
Fd sell the house.
(ANN drinks)
STYLIANOS
(Shouting)
Lady, don't sell the house now. Keep the house. Ask my
Papa. He don't know nothing. Prices are bad. Please cool
down.
ANN
Oh, I'm so ashamed. He ran. Right in the street. And I
ran after him.
(Starts to rise. STYLIANOS pushes her down and pours
another drink for her. She tragically)
I couldn't help it. I couldn't do anything else. I tried not
to run, but I just couldn't stand still. I love him.
STYXIANOS
(Turns to OLD MAN)
118
She's In love, Papa.
ANN
I walked here. Never in all my life have I walked that way.
That's why I am so confused. I got lost, looking for him.
Then Georgie Mr. Americanos, your son is a wonderful,
wonderful boy.
(DEMETRIOS breaks into the room from left. He
comes to a sudden halt center as he notices ANN
who rises)
DEMETRIOS
Hello, my cousin.
STYLIANOS
Demetrios! Out!
(Pointing)
DEMETRIOS
How is you, Miss Hamilton? Troublous?
STYLIANOS
Out! Good-by, please!
(DEMETRIOS goes out right center, timidly , confused
and bewildered. Explaining to ANN)
Lady. Don't sell the house. Five years ago I paid four thou-
sand dollars for this house. Two stories. Today I can't get
thirty-seven hundred.
ANN
(Sitting down. She gets up again, excitedly)
When I went into my house everything was ruined. I was
bom in that house. I don't know why he had to run. My
119
mother and my father built that house when they were
married. I didn't want people like that in my house. All
Mama's things ruined. And they wouldn't go.
(Takes another drink]
PERICLES
(In Greek]
Is she an actress?
STYLIANOS
(Angry)
No, Papa. The lady is not an actress. Lady, please cool
down, please.
ANN
They fust wouldn't go. Georgie told me to come here and
wait.
(She brings Dr. Greathearfs bottle out of her bag,
unscrews the top)
He gave me a bottle of this. "Any time you feel miserable/'
he shouted we were running down the street "just take a
swig of the stuff in that bottle. Won't do you any harm."
(She starts to take a swig)
I don't know what it is. I guess it's medicine, though.
STYLIANOS
Don't drink that patent medicine.
(He takes bottle)
That's not good.
(Places bottle on piano up left)
Drink this wine.
ANN
(Taking glass)
120
Oh, thank you, Mr. Americanos. A toast. To love.
(Drinks. PERICLES takes bottle from piano and
drinks. He reacts to the liquid. Sits)
I feel so strange. I'm scared. I used to live so peacefully.
Everything was quiet and nice. Last night I dreamed of
lions.
STYLIANOS
Lions!
(He fills ANN'S glass quickly)
ANN
(Drinks)
The lions ran after me, and then they became friendly.
Then they begged me to be friendly.
(Laughs)
Lions begging me to be friendly. This morning, Georgie
came with the telegram. And then he came. Barnaby Gaul.
STYLIANOS
Lions? Georgie? Telegram? Papa, don't drink that patent
medicine.
(Takes bottle)
PERICLES
(In Greek)
What 7 s the difference? She's crazy. I'll be crazy, too.
ANN
He's nice. It's so nice talking to you, Mr. Americanos.
You're just like your beautiful son. At first I didn't under-
stand anything. Boston. Barnaby Gaul. Six roses. But he
didn't remember. I was so scared, because I thought I'd
121
lose everything, all those years. But little by little he re-
membered, and then my heart It sang and sang. Then I
remembered the beautiful friendly lions.
STYLIANOS
Lady, drink more.
ANN
Thank you, Mr. Americanos.
(To PERICLES)
To love.
(Crosses to PERICLES)
PERICLES
(Toasts in Greek)
Homeland.
(ANN tries to repeat Greek word. They drink)
ANN
(Crosses back to table, right center. Sits)
I know something's happening. I don't know what it is.
He came up onto the porch and kissed rne. It was like he
had kissed me every day for twenty-seven years. And when
he walked through the house, I thought he'd been there
all those years. One beautiful thing after another, as if I
were still dreaming, but I wasn't scared any more. He sang
tome.
(She sings. Suddenly she breaks down and becomes
hysterical)
I don't know what's happened.
STYLIANOS
(Indicating door right)
122
Lady, please go into this room and lie down. Try to sleep.
ANN
(Rises and crosses to bedroom right)
Thank you very much, Mr. Americanos.
PAPA
(Rises)
Stylianos!
STYLIANOS
Papa, the lady's got trouble.
(STYLIANOS opens the door. ANN exits. He closes the
door, sits on the floor right and begins to puff at the
nargilah. After a moment his son GEORGIE comes into
the room from left in great excitement)
GEORGIE
Is she here, Pa?
STYLIANOS
(Pointing to door)
Sleeping.
GEORGIE
Her house is on fire, Pa*
STYLIANOS
(Irritated)
House on fire?
GEORGIE
(Coming to center)
They set fire to it. And that guy. He didn't leave town.
123
STYLIANOS
(Rises. Very excited)
Wait, Georgie! Please cool down, Georgia.
GEORGIE
He's in the White Fawn saloon, Pa. You've got to go get
him.
STYLIANOS
Georgie! Please cool down.
GEORGIE
Pa ? he may run away.
STYLIANOS
Georgie ? sit down a minute. Then we talk. Don't talk now.
Just sit. Quiet!
(GEORGIE sits left of table right center, tries to quiet
down, and little by little does so, after his father
has gestured at him wildly several times when he
wanted to speak. Finally the boy is perfectly calm.
He starts to get excited again)
Now, what's the matter?
GEORGIE
(Jumping out of chair)
Tom Fiora
STYLIANOS
(Pushing him back into chair)
Quiet, Georgie,
(STYLIANOS folds his arms and waits for GEORGIE to
calm down)
All right, Georgie, go ahead.
124
GEORGIE
(Quietly)
Tom Fiora he's another messenger put a telegram in my
pocket. It wasn't a real telegram. He was sore at me. His
brother Mike wrote it. The telegram was for her.
PERICLES
Georgie, is war in Europe?
GEORGIE
Yes, Grandpa. But this isn't about the war.
STYLIANOS
Cool down, Georgie. Speak slow.
GEORGIE
I recited the telegram to her. I talked to her. I made her
believe it was all real.
STYLIANOS
Georgie! What this telegram say?
GEORGIE
(Rises)
Here's the telegram, Pa. You read it. I don't like to think
about it any more.
(STYLIANOS takes the telegram from GEORGIE.
DEMETRIOS enters right center and stands looking at
telegram which GEORGIE has handed to STYLIANOS.
STYLIANOS sees him and orders him out of the room.
DEMETRIOS goes out right center)
125
PERICLES
(Rises]
Georgie. Is the Greeks in the war?
GEORGIE
No, Grandpa. Germany and Poland.
STYLIANOS
(Quoting telegram)
"Love's Old Sweet Song. Twenty-seven years. Six roses.
Four red. Two white. Five children. Get rid of everybody.
Remember me. Speak to me. I love you." It's very roinan-
tical, Georgie. Why you exciting?
GEORGIE
Romantical, my eye. Don't you see, Pa, the guy went into
the house, and I thought everything was going to be all
right. But he ran away from her.
STYLIANOS
Don't worry. Everything's going to be satisfactory.
GEORGIE
How's everything going to be satisfactory?
STYLIANOS
You leave everything to me.
(DEMETRIOS comes into the room again from right
center. This time a good deal less briskly than the
first time. He doesn't speak, but looks expectantly
toward STYLIANOS)
Demetrios, out! Can't you see I've got trouble?
126
DEMETRIOS
Stylianos, for why you tell me "Out! Out!" I am your
cousin?
STYLIANOS
Yes, you are my cousin.
DEMETRIOS
(Going out right center)
I ain your cousin no more. I quit!
STYLIANOS
All right, Georgie. Tell the romance.
GEORGIE
I told her to wait here until I could come and take her home.
But now there's no home to take her to, and the man's gone.
STYLIANOS
That man. What kind of man is he?
GEORGIE
I thought he was a great man, Pa, on account of the tele-
gram. It's all my fault.
STYLIANOS
(Quietly)
Georgie, when that man went into the house
(Pauses and looks at GEORGIE. GEORGIE nods his head)
I don't want you to feel bad, Georgie. It's not your fault.
GEORGIE
(Pathetically)
I started it alL
127
STYLIANOS
Georgie, be philosopher, please.
GEORGIE
What good is philosophy? Her house is burned down. The
man's gone. How are we going to get out of this with phi-
losophy?
STYLIANOS
Easy as peachy-pie, Georgie. I go get that man.
GEORGIE
He won't come. He's drinking. He won't come.
STYLIANOS
(Angry)
No? I carry him here. I make him talk to her. If she still
wants him, I make him marry her.
GEORGIE
I told him everything at the fire. I told him to come here.
Then I followed him to the White Fawn. He won't corne.
STYLIANOS
You go for ride. You forget everything.
GEORGIE
All right, Pa.
(Starts to go to door left)
STYLIANOS
I go get that man.
GEORGIE
He's a big guy, and he carries a straw suitcase*
128
STYLIANOS
I find him, all right.
GEORGIE
Thanks, Pa. Gosh! I sure make a lot of trouble.
(Pauses while he remembers everything. He goes out
left)
(STYLIANOS does a jew limbering-up exercises, half a
minute of fancy wrestling at center. Puts on his coat
and hat. Goes around the room looking at the pho-
tographs and the maps. He stands a long time in
front of the picture of the naked three-months-old
boy. He smiles y shaking his head]
PERICLES
Bravo.
(GEORGIE breaks into the room from left with a
brand-new bicycle)
GEORGIE
Look, Pa!
STYLIANOS
Georgiel Where you get that bike?
GEORGIE
(Honks horn)
He gave it to me.
STYLIANOS
Who?
GEORGIE
That guy, Pa.
129
STYLIANOS
You mean the man?
GEORGIE
(Delighted)
Yeah. Barnaby Gaul. He rode the bike out here. He was
riding like everything, zigzagging all over the place, blowing
the horn, ringing the bell.
(He honks the horn and rings the bell)
He tried to ride one-handed through the hedge. You can't
do that with both hands. He hurt himself, I guess, but he
didn't hurt the bike. He's drunk. He's sitting on the lawn,
holding his leg. Fm supposed to get him a drink of water.
(Pause for a moment)
Gosh, Pa! I sure am a dope.
STYLIANOS
Dope? Why dope?
GEORGIE
I forgot everything, just because he gave me a lousy brand-
new bike.
STYLIANOS
Don't worry. Everything's going to be satisfactory. Georgie,
I gonna rassle that man.
GEORGIE
Ah, Pa. What do you want to rassle him for?
STYLIANOS
He's drunk. I gonna teach him manners.
130
GEORGIE
He's got manners, Pa.
STYLIANOS
Georgie, I gonna get head-lock, half-nelson, toe-hold and
scissor-hold on that man.
GEORGIE
Ah, Pa, you'll ruin him.
STYLIANOS
That's all right. I be careful.
GEORGIE
Careful? He can't even stand up, I don't think. He's sitting
on the lawn holding his leg, and you want to get a half-
nelson on him. I'm supposed to get him a glass of water.
(GEORGIE sets the bike near the piano. He goes out
right center to get a glass of -water. GAUL, limping a
little, a little drunk, comes in left)
GAUL
For the love of God! Bring me a glass of water. I'm dying.
STYLIANOS
Who are you?
GAUL
(Crosses to table right center and sits in chair left )
Nobody. A wretch. A man without a home. Neither son,
nor brother, nor husband, nor father. A man without an
address. A man who gets no mail. A traveler. A tourist.
(GEORGIE brings him a glass of water from right cen-
ter)
131
A failure.
(He raises his arm dramatically as though he -were
saying he -was a vice-president, GAUL drinks the -water]
STYLIANOS
Georgia, why is he bragging?
GEORGIE
He's not bragging. That's the way he talks.
STYLIANOS
What is your name?
GAUL
My name's Jim.
(Disgusted)
I am a swindler who is himself swindled every day. Every
minute.
STYLIANOS
Georgie, is this the man?
GEORGIE
(Feeling hopeless)
Yeah, Pa.
(To GAITJL)
I don't want the bike.
GAUL
(Disgusted)
I'm the man. Dr. Greatheart. A fraud. Barnaby Gaul. Never
heard of Barnaby Gaul in my life. Who invented that in-
credible name?
132
GEORGIE
Mike Flora.
GAUL
Mike Fiora! What'd he do it for?
GEORGIE
So his brother could get even on me.
GAUI,
(Irritated)
My name's Jim. Just plain ordinary Jim.
(Painfully)
Where is she?
STYX.IANOS
Georgie, I gonna rassle that man.
(GEORGIE crosses over to center)
GAUL
Rassle? Who's going to rassle who?
STYLIANOS
I gonna rassle you.
GATJL
Why? I'm hurt.
STYLIANOS
I gonna teach you manners. .You ain't hurt.
GAUL
Manners? What's the matter with my manners?
STYLIANOS
(He does limbering-up exercises. PERICLES watches
him wfcn he has finished says:)
You get ready, now. I give you chance.
PERICLES
Bravo!
GEORGIE
You can't rassle him.
STYLIANOS
Why not, Georgie?
GEORGIE
Suppose she still loves him?
GAUL
Yes. Suppose she still loves me?
GEORGIE
A lot of good hell be after you get through with him. Come
on, Pa. Leave him alone.
STYLIANOS
(To GAUL)
Why you come here? Tell the truth.
GAUL
I came to tell her her house is burned down. The poor
woman's alone in the world.
GEORGIE
What did you do with the little girl?
134
GAUL
She's with the Sheriff. I tried to find her mother, but I
couldn't, so I took her to the police. I told them the truth,
but they wouldn't believe me. They said she was my daugh-
ter. They said she looks like me. They're keeping her until
I know what to do with her. She needs Ann. And I need
Ann.
(To GEORGIE)
Why don't you want the bike?
GEORGIE
I've made a lot of trouble. Just because you gave me a
bike, I forgot everything.
STYLIANOS
(Eager to -wrestle)
Georgie, you go away.
GAUL
(Rises. Scared)
Why? Why send the boy away?
(STYLIANOS gestures to GEORGIE. GEORGIE goes into
the kitchen right center. STYLIANOS gives GAUL a long
meaningful look and gestures for him to come for-
ward to center and wrestle)
Now, Mr. Papakapoulos
STYLIANOS
(Very angry)
Mr. What?
1 35
GAUL
Mr. Arkapapoulos
STYLIANOS
What?
GAUL
My dear sir.
STYLIANOS
You better try hard.
GAUL
I can't rassle.
STYLIANOS
You can't rassle!
(Pounces upon GAUL lifts him into the air and
swings into an aeroplane spin)
GAUL
One moment.
STYLIANOS
This airplane spin.
GAUL
For the love of God, Greek.
(STYLL1NOS SWingS GAUL OTOUnd tO PERICLES. GAUL
and PERICLES shake hands)
PERICLES
Stylianos, who is this great man?
GAUL
Be good enough to set me down on my feet. I can't stand
height.
STYLIANOS
(Sets GAUL on his feet. Commanding)
Rassle!
GAUL
I'm in love. How can I rassle when Fm in love?
(STYLIANOS gets full-nekon on GAUL)
STYLIANOS
You not in love. Why you run away from that lady?
GAUL
I don't know.
STYLIANOS
Why you start trouble?
GAUL
(While STYLIANOS shakes GAUL'S head)
I didn't know I was starting trouble.
STYLIANOS
Why you go in the house?
GAUL
She wanted me to.
STYLIANOS
(Very much interested)
She wanted you to?
137
GAUL
One moment, please.
STYLIANOS
This full-nelson.
GAUL
All right. Full-nelson*
(With considerable conviction)
I didn't know who she was. Your son told me. I didn't
send her a telegram from Boston. Your son said I did.
I love her. I need her.
STYLIANOS
(Getting head-lock on GAUL)
Poor lady. Handsome man like you, telling lies all the
time. This head-lock.
GAUL
All right. Head-lock. Fm not Dr. Greatheart. I'm not
Barnaby Gaul. My name's Jim, Jim Doherty. Even so, I
love her.
(STYLIANOS grips him tighter)
Would you mind loosening your ami a little? Your son's
going to be a great man some day.
STYLIANOS
Georgie?
GAUL
Yes, sir.
STYLIANOS
(Loudly)
Georgie Americanos?
GAUL
Yes, sir. Georgie Americanos,
(GEORGIE enters right center hurriedly. Coming
down)
GEORGIE
Ah, Pa! Let him go, will you?
GAUL
Yeah. The boy's got the right idea. Let him go.
(STYLIANOS releases GAUL)
GEORGIE
All I wanted to do was make things a little better. Now
they're worse.
STYLIANOS
No. I rassle him. Everything's going to be satisfactory.
He loves her. Don't you?
GAUL
Of course I love her.
GEORGHS
(To GAUL)
If you really loved her, you'd love everybody. You can't
go around loving one person and hating everybody else.
139
GAUL
Who said anything about hating anybody? I've always
loved everybody.
STYLIANOS
How about that, Georgie?
GEORGIE
(To GAUL)
You ran away when you knew she loved you.
STYLIANOS
(Very angry at GAUL again)
You trouble-maker!
(Moves to get head-lock on GAUL again)
GAUL
All right. What's this?
STYLIANOS
This Australian jaw-breaker.
GEQRGEE
Leave him alone, Pa. It's not his fault.
STYLIANOS
No, Georgie? Whose fault is it?
GEORGIE
I don't know, Pa.
(Crosses up to the bicycle)
It sure is a keen wheel, though.
STYLIANOS
You love this woman, you liar?
140
GAUL
Of course, I love her. I more than love her. We have a
child.
STYLIANOS
You got money?
GAUL
Some. I spent most of my money today.
STYLIANOS
How much you got?
GAUL
Oh, ten, eleven, twelve dollars.
STYLIANOS
Ten, eleven, twelve dollars!
GAUL
It's not a lot, but when a man's in love
(STYLIANOS approaches threateningly. GAUL takes
out a pack of cards)
One moment! Will you kindly take a card. Any card at all.
(STYLIANOS takes a card)
You are a wrestler, I believe. You have wrestled in the
arena.
STYLIANOS
World's Heavyweight Champion Kern County.
GAUL
(Setting up his table)
141
I, too, am a wrestler.
STYLIAJSTOS
All right. Let's rassle.
GAUL
I do not wrestle as you wrestle, my friend.
STTLIANOS
You rassle women?
GAUL
You shame me. The card you have taken is the Nine of
Clubs, I believe. Three times three is nine. You are also
a member of the Greek Orthodox Church, I believe. The
number three, therefore, is not meaningless to you.
(STYLIANOS and GEORGIE bless themselves)
Georgie, will you take a card?
GEORGIE
(Taking card)
We don't want any of your medicine.
GAUL
You don't need any of it, I believe. Now what card have
you?
GEORGIE
The Nine of Clubs. I guess that's all youVe got in that
deck,
GAUL
No. Here.
(Sftows cards)
142
Look at the cards. All different. All different.
(GEORGIE looks)
You are a messenger.
GEORGIE
Yeah.
GAUL
I, too, am a messenger.
STYLIANOS
Rassler. Messenger. What else?
GAUL
I am a missionary.
(Indicating PERICLES)
This elderly gentleman here, I believe, is your father?
STYLIANOS
Papa, I want you to meet
GAUL
Dr. Greatheart. Dr. Greatheart!
(Shakes hands with PERICLES)
GEORGIE
Ah, that's not your real name. What are you bluffing for?
STYLIANOS
Yes, tell the boy why you bluff. This is not poker game.
GAUL
My good man, life is a poker game, among other things.
STYLIANOS
Georgie, this man is philosopher.
H3
GEORGIE
Philosopher, my eye. Don't you see, Pa, that's the way he
gathers a crowd around him, and then sells his medicine.
He makes them think something very mysterious is going
to happen.
GAUL
Something mysterious does happen. Every time. Your
father is right. I am a philosopher.
STYLIANOS
What philosophy you have?
GAUL
You shall see in a moment.
(To PERICLES)
Will you kindly take a card?
PERICLES
(Takes card. In Greek)
He is a Christian. I can tell from the way he speaks.
GAXJL
I beg your pardon. I do not speak Greek. It is embarrass-
ing to me that I ain not able to speak such a magnificent
language. You will forgive me, I am sure.
(PERICLES and GAUL bow. To STYLIANOS)
What did your father say?
STYLIANOS
He said you are a Christian.
GAUL
I am.
144
STYLIANOS
He said he can tell from the way you speak,
GAUL
Your father is a noble man.
STYLIANOS
He used to be a peasant in the old country.
GAUL
I, too, am a peasant.
(To PERICLES)
I need not tell you the card you have taken is the Nine
of Clubs.
GEORGIE
Yeah, it's the Nine of Clubs all right. How come every-
body takes the Nine of Clubs?
(ANN comes in right)
GAUL
Now, for the amazing demonstration I am about to
make
ANN
(Seeing GAUL)
Barnaby!
(She rushes to him, center)
Barnaby!
GEORGIE
His name isn't Barnaby, Miss Hamilton.
ANN
Oh, Georgie. How can I ever thank you?
STYLIANOS
His name is Jim.
ANN
And you, Mr. Americanos? You did come back, Barnaby.
STYLIANOS
(Emphatically)
Jim!
ANN
I never want to see this town again. Ill sell the house,
and we'll go to Boston.
GAUL
Ann, your house is burned down.
ANN
(Coming to)
What?
GAUL
Yes, Ann.
ANN
(Sitting left of table right center)
I don't care, I don't care about the house. I don't care
about anything. Fm happy, Barnaby. YouVe come back to
me.
(DOORBELL rings and the SHERIFF enters with
LUCY, left)
SHERIFF
Your daughter's been asking for her father.
146
(LUCY runs to GAUL, center)
ANN
Oh, what a beautiful child, Barnaby. Come here, darling.
(Opens her arms to child, who rushes into them)
Why didn't you tell me? Why, Barnaby, she looks just
like you.
GAUL
If s nothing. Nothing at all. Sheriff, this little girl is not
my daughter.
SHERIFF
She looks like you.
GAUL
She belongs to that family from Oklahoma. I looked all
over for her mother, but I couldn't find her.
SHERIFF
She likes you. Don't you like her?
GAUL
I love her more than anyone in the world, except this
woman, but I love the truth, too. I want you to know, be-
cause I want to be her father. I want to see her grow into
grace and loveliness. I have never before felt the affection
I feel for this woman and this child.
SHERIFF
Well, she looks like you.
GAUL
She's mine in spirit, at least.
(To LUCY)
147
You do love me, don't you, child?
LUCY
Yes. I love the way you smell.
GAUL
(Taking child in his arms)
I don't care why you love me, just so you do.
SHERIFF
Well, If I ever saw a father, there he is.
GAUL
And this woman, child? You love her, too, don't you?
ANN
(Holding out her arms to LUCY)
You love me, darling, don't you?
LUCY
(Running into ANN'S arms)
Yes. I love you, too.
SHERIFF
There you are. A father, a mother, and a beautiful child.
(He exits left.)
(The DOORBELL rings. All the CHILDREN enter,
followed by LEONA)
GEORGIE
Pa, these are the people.
STYLLWOS
Come in. Come in.
148
(STYLIANOS takes all the CHILDREN upstage right to
the sofa)
GAUL
(To LEONA)
Dear lady, here is your daughter. If the child is willing,
and if you are willing
LEONA
(With concern)
Well, you take good care of Lucy.
ANN
(Delighted)
Oh, we will, we will!
LEONA
(Starting to go left. To GEORGIE)
I just came to thank you. Children, we'll be going along
now.
STYLIANOS
No, lady. You stay here. Everybody stay here. We all sit
down and have supper together.
(Calling)
, Demetrios! My cousin, Demetrios!
(DEMETRIOS appears right center)
You go get bread. Get meat. Get wine. We all gonna sit
down and have supper together. Hurry up! We wait for
you.
DEMETRIOS
I am your cousin again?
149
STYLIANOS
Yes. Everybody is my cousin.
(DEMETRIOS goes out right center.)
(The DOORBELL rings and CABOT comes in left)
LEONA
Why 7 Cabot! I thought you was dead.
CABOT
Dead? Leona, you look good.
(To GAUL)
Doc ? I want to tell you that medicine saved my life.
GAUL
Thank you, my good man.
(CABOT goes to LEONA)
Ann, Fm a pitchman. I sell this medicine to people. I
sometimes drink it myself. I sometimes believe in it my-
self. Take a card, please.
(Holds out pack. ANN takes a card)
Thank you. What card have you?
ANN
The Queen of Hearts.
GATJL
The Queen of Hearts. Ann, I love you. Fll do anything
I can to make you happy. I'll do anything you want me
to do. Ill throw away my suitcase. Fm alone in the world.
I hardly ever see a face twice, and I hardly ever see a face
I want to see twice. I like people, but I don't like the dis-
150
grace they've fallen into. The only way I know how to do
anything about it is to set up my suitcase in the streets,
get behind it, and talk to them. Ann, tell me what you
want me to do, and I'll do it.
(WARN Curtain)
ANN
I want to do whatever you want me to do, Barnaby.
(Rises and goes to piano)
GAUL
My name's Jim, Ann. You could help me a lot. I wouldn't
spend so much time in saloons, Ann. I'd drink some, of
course, but I wouldn't drink so much. After a while we
could get a trailer, and you could stand up on the plat-
form with me. You and the little girl. You'd just stand
there, Ann. It does them good to look upon beauty. I
know it does, because it does me good. We'd go from town
to town. The highways are beautiful all the year around.
ANN
Jim, we're going to be so happy.
GAUL
(To STYLIANOS)
Mr. Americanos, I shall always be grateful to you on ac-
count of this boy: this Postal Telegraph messenger who
carries to the world the only message worth carrying.
(To CABOT)
My good man, I want you to be a living testimonial to
the wonderful powers of Dr. Greathearf s Five-Star Multi-
purpose Indian Remedy. I want all of you to be that Uv-
151
ing testimonial. Now, Mr. Yearling, if you will line up the
children, we will rehearse the amazing demonstration I
am going to make from now on all over the country.
(CABOT lines up the CHILDREN in front of stage)
Children, will each of you kindly take a card. Any card at
all.
(He gives each child a card)
Hold the cards aloft.
(The CHILDREN do so. Each card is the Nine of
Clubs. GAUL starts to sing "Of All the Things I
Love" ANN joins him. Finally the CHILDREN join in)
(To the audience, while the CHILDREN are singing)
Ladies and gentlemen, I have here on this platform, Dr.
Greathearf s World Famous A Capelle Choir, and while
the children are singing this lovely little ballad, Fm going
to ask you to step up a little closer. I have gathered these
children from the four corners of the earth. Each child is
a natural-born singer. Also each child is a genius. Beyond
th^platforaTana^cross the street is the world. What will
happen to each child as it wanders into the world only
God knows, but now each child is a genius.
(He takes a bottle out of his coat pocket and holds
it aloft)
I have here in this bottle a medicine. The juices of certain
roots and barks are extracted
CURTAIN
152
PROPERTY PLOT
ACT ONE
On Stage:
Rocking chair on porch.
Seated lion on pedestal for lawn.
Small rock alongside of lion (JESSE).
Hand Props o/f stage right:
Six roses four red and two white (ANN HAMILTON).
Hand shears (ANN HAMILTON).
Love Story Magazine (ANN HAMILTON).
Shaving brush, shaving mug, towel (BARNABY GAUL).
Lawn-mower (DEMETRIOS).
Small American flag (DEMETRIOS).
Loaf bread, leg chicken (NEWTON).
Hand Props off stage left:
Bicycle (used by GEORGIE AMERICANOS throughout play).
Postal Telegraph blank and envelopes (GEORGIE AMERI-
CANOS).
Bicycle (TOM FIORA).
Small copy of Shakespeare (AL YEARLING).
Postal Telegraph blanks (TOM FIORA).
Straw suitcase filled with 3 candles, matches, 6 bottles
of dark fluid.
Folding stand in suitcase, cards, Nine of Clubs (BARNABY
GAUL).
Old blanket and stick (CABOT YEARLING).
Old bundle of clothes (LEONA YEARLING).
Briefcase and typewriter case (RICHARD OLIVER).
Hand camera small bag with straps to hang over shoul-
der (ELSA WAX).
Flat stick for (HENRY).
Old blanket spread out on lawn (CABOT).
Rocker on porch.
Hand Props off stage right:
Bottle of medicine (ANN HAMILTON).
Doll for one of the YEARLING GIRLS.
Hand Props off stage left:
Briefcase Time Magazine, Time Magazine subscrip-
tion forms (WINDMORE).
2 small whistles (WINDMORE), coins.
ACT TWO
Time Magazine, whistle (CABOT YEARLING) .
Bottle of medicine (CABOT YEARLING).
Hand Props off stage right:
Box of matches (HENRY).
Club (NEWTON).
Sound effect for striking CABOT.
ACT THREE
Stage right small table, two straight chairs, L. and R. of
table.
Up stage right small red sofa.
Stage right small table with practical turntable.
Up stage left square piano and stool.
Stage left by piano straight armchair.
Small rug 4 by 6 feet center stage.
Bowl flowers.
Picture of small baby on piano.
Small pedestal with small statue.
Life-sized picture of STYLIANOS R. and L. on wall.
Life-sized picture of a family group on back wall up stage.
Old rifle and sword crossed above family group picture.
2 glasses and bottle of wine on table stage right.
Nargilah (Greek pipe) (STYLIANOS).
Props off stage right:
Glass of water (GEORGIE AMERICANOS).
Props off stage left:
Bottle of medicine (ANN HAMILTON).
Suitcase, bottle of medicine, cards, Nine of Clubs (BAR-
NAB Y GAUL).
New bicycle (GEORGIE AMERICANOS).
Bottle of medicine (CABOT YEARLING).
ELECTRICAL PLOT
ACT ONE
Fronts 16 Lico lights 72-112
Foots 2 sections 3 circuits 72-112-130
First Pipe 20 Licos 72-112 No color
Right Tor 6 Licos 72-112
Left Tor 6 Licos 72-112
2nd Pipe 3-500 watt spots top porch no color
3rd Pipe 3 sections 300 watt border 120-130-140 (Frost)
House 100 watt spot on porch door strips top and bot-
tom floor
Boom Left ist entrance 5-100 watt #8 lenses
Boom Left 2nd entrance 7-500 watt spots
Boom Left Between gauze and back drop 2-100 watt
spots
Right back spot 1000 watt floor
Open everything on glow on cue:
Everything to full slowly count 30 favoring porch
ACT TWO
Set up same as Act I
Except
Cue board #j pipe #500 watt on mark
156
Small board 5-6 right first entrance boom on mark
Preset board #2 left tormentor 1-2-3-4 on mark
Preset board left tormentor 5-6 on mark
Same as Act I Scene II
On Cue: Dim all spots on house to mark
Fire Effect:
On Cue: Smoke through bottom window
On Cue: Fire projector on window dimmer
On Cue: Chemical smoke through window
Fan fire full on dimmer
Top window red strip on and off
ACT THREE
Fronts all full 2 brackets (not practical) left and right
Foots all full table lamp on piano
Electrical turntable (practical)
Preset board #1 (No. 2-6-10-19-12-17-18-16 on mark
Preset board #2 Pipe #i No. 1-3-13 R5 R6 Li Lq. on
mark
Preset board #3 Tormentor R-i R3 L5 1^6-5-4-7 on mar k
Cue board. No. 6 strip low mark
No. 7 entrance strip full
MUSIC
We can supply copies of "Of All the Things I Love" at
50^ per copy.
157
PUBLICITY THROUGH YOUR LOCAL
PAPERS
The press can be an immense help in giving publicity to
your productions. In the belief that the best reviews from
the New York papers are always interesting to local audi-
ences, and in order to assist you, we are printing below sev-
eral excerpts from those reviews.
"This man Saroyan will be the death of us yet. In 'Love's
Old Sweet Song/ which was acted at the Plymouth last eve-
ning, he has spun some more of his beguiling improvizations
for three acts in length and hired Walter Huston to simu-
late an amiable charlatan. The improvizations are comic, for
Mr. Saroyan is an inventive chap with a liking for folksy
and spontaneous fooling. The characters are off the Ameri-
can highways. Mr. Saroyan's attitude toward life is wholly
ingratiating; his heart is in the right place; his writing is
warming." The New York Times.
"He is the new hope in the theatre. 'Love's Old Sweet
Song' is a formless sort of satirical comedy fandango Its
theme, if you dig deeply enough, appears to be that the thing
of which this world stands most in need is love, love and
more love." The Daily News.
158
"William Saroyan tells a pleasantly ga-ga little story in
'Love's Old Sweet Song/ and tinkles the changes on several
themes. He celebrates love, of which he entirely approves;
he burlesques refugees from the dust bowl, of whom he
does not approve." New York Sun.
"Although originality is no common commodity, William
Saroyan possesses it to an uncommon degree. 'My Heart's
In The Highlands 7 and 'The Time Of Your Life' were elo-
quent proofs of this. In their different ways they made clear
how fresh is the talent Mr. Saroyan has brought to the
theatre's service, how unconventional are his aims and means,
how poignant and probing his gift for fantasy can be, with
what spurts of revelation he is able to write, how colorful
is his humor, how strong is the lyric sense that finds dramatic
statement in his plays, and how successful he has been in
offering mood as a substitute for plotting as plotting is
ordinarily understood/' New York Post.
"Mr. Saroyan continues to be the freshest and most com-
forting new voice in the American theatre. In his new play
'Love's Old Sweet Song' the antic gentleman provides us
with a gay and daffy comedy, so richly, humorously and hap
pily mad, so filled with laughter and imagination and
warmth, so hearty and yet so curiously tender, that the pre-
sumably waning dramatic season takes on a new luster.
Mr. Saroyan is the drama's most important new man. I
wish Mr. Saroyan would write a play every week/' New
York Herald-Tribune.
159
"That surprising young man, William Saroyan, has burst
cheerfully into the Broadway scene again with another
ecstatic interpretation of life which he calls 'Love's Old
Sweet Song/ a play that is sure to enliven and brighten the
dying days of the theatrical season, if for no other reason
than that it will again fan the flames of controversy over
his position in the modern theatre. It is filled with joyful
caricatures of humanity and it tells a coherent story. There
is happy satire in it, sometimes at the expense of big and
pontifical business, sometimes at the expense of earnest,
meddling social workers and sometimes at the expense of
the great and unimaginative middle classes. But its principal
charm lies in the hordes of utterly delightful and nearly al-
ways irrelevant characters who brighten the stage with the
vivid color of their individual personalities." New York
World-Telegram .
"In the public arguments over whether Saroyan is as great
as he says he is, or simply nuts, I have felt at times that
both sides might be right, and have gone ahead anyway ad-
miring the force, and humor and compassion. . . . New
York Journal American.
160
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